


Blood, Ties That Bind

by Flamming_Phoenix2016



Category: Batman (Comics), Kim Possible (Cartoon), Modok - Fandom, Ra's al Ghul (Society of Shadows), Spiderman and Web Warriors (Cartoon), hydra - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Global Justice, Global War, Mixed Martial Arts, Mutant Powers, SHIELD, SHIELD Helicarrier, Sentinels, X-Men References, high tech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 93,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamming_Phoenix2016/pseuds/Flamming_Phoenix2016
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd saved the world numerous times. Kim Possible was about to learn. She'd never been an average girl. Her education started with her first ever SHIELD mission. Breach an ancient temple and recover its WMD. Her superiors believed, its power could prevent the looming war between mutants and humans. Kim breaches the temple, defeats its ancient guardians, recovers the artifact, but releases Aconasema, a.k.a. Dragon Phoenix. The celestial entity invades her body rewriting her basic genetics, until she resembles a younger Jean Gray. On top of this, she confronts her greatest moral dilemma ever. Recent events blurs the dividing line between good and evil. She learnt the truth. Both sides desires this weapon's power for their own selfish purposes, neither of which is honorable. Both realize, neither can wield the weapon without her under their control. They draw a temporary truce hunting her. She must resolve her crisis of conscious, what to do with said power source, while battling Hydra, SHIELD, Global Justice, even a giant army of sentinels, simply to keep herself, family, and friends alive and out of enemy hands. What extents would you go to accomplish this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all characters portrayed and/or implied inside that television animated program belong solely unto Walt Disney Productions. 

All technology and/or terms mimicking Star Trek belong unto CBS and Paramount Studios. All similarities to any television programs or series along with magazine and other media outlets' stories, cartoons, character names, in name of incidents, are purely coincidental, not intentional

Teen Titans were created by Bob Haney and Bruno Premiani, produced and belong unto DC Comics

Justice League was created by Gardner, published by DC Comics: Justice League in this series includes: Superman, Flash, Wonder Woman, Cyborg, Green Lantern, J'onn J'onzz (Martian Manhunter), and Firestorm. 

Batman, on occasion. Base of operations is the Watchtower, a space station orbiting the Earth.

Batman created by Bill Finger and Bob Kane, published by DC Comics, along with the Mentor and Nemesis, Ra's al Ghoul, Founder of the League of Shadows.

Green Lantern dates back unto the 40s. This character's been revisioned several times. Character and subsequent property right belong unto DC Comics.

Avengers created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, and published by Marvel Comics, and includes Tony Stark (Iron Man), Captain America, Thor, and other heroes. 

Spider-Man created by Stan Lea and Steve Ditko, and expanded by Brian Michael Bandis, and published by Marvel Comics under The Ultimate Spider-Man, along with Villains, Modok and Doctor Octopus, Otto Octavius. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, published by Marvel Comics. 

Background:

Dr. Director spent many years grooming her successor. Imagine her chagrin, when said protegee decides against joining Global Justice, at least not right away. 

Kim eased her anxiety, some, by reasoning, she intended on attaining dual majors in mechanical cybernetics and criminal justice at Yale. Living with geniuses, she was surprised how much tech stuff she picked up over the years. 

Even so, Yale's prima curriculum kept her busier than ever. Time became her most precious asset, and a daily schedule her lifeline. That meant, she had to be very selective on her current mission roster. Kim worked closely with her father at the Middleton Space Center (MSC) working on their latest secret project, Project Titan, an actual hypersonic flying saucer armed with state of the arm weaponry. 

Call to Action

Her greatest enemy these days was her own alarm clock. It only seemed to ring earlier every morning. Good thing she unplugged it before laying down this morning. 

Then, again, she'd forgotten about another little amenity. Her wrist kimmunicator sang its iconic 'Call Me, Beep Me' tune. She rolled over in bed grumbling under her breath. She'd left Wade explicit instructions. Don't disturb her for anything or anyone, no exceptions. And yet, here he was ringing her...she checks her clock...at 10:45 a.m. She'd worked 3-days straight on Project Titan. She'd only laid down at 8:22 a.m., less than 2-1/2 hours ago. 

She sticks her head under her pillow delaying answering, and muffling its ring. Hoping, he'd take a hint and call back tomorrow or the next day. No such luck. Her kimmunicator only sang louder, literally. She couldn't it any longer snatching the device off her nightstand, "What!”

“Kim?” Wade tests how much trouble he's in. 

“Wade, this had best be life or death important," she snaps gruffly but groggily.

“I know. I know,” his holograms raises its hands in surrender. “You said, don't bother you for two days...” 

“At the very least,” she sternly clarifies her orders. “And has it been that long?” 

“No”. 

“Didn't think so,” she presses her point. “Why'd you call me? I know you didn't simply get bored and wanted to chitchat about recent events”. 

“I'd never do that, Kim”. 

“I know,” she retracts her claws. “Why do you think I'm being this level-headed? Reason for calling me, Wade? Now”. 

“Oh, yea,” he giggles apprehensively. “You know how you call in favors all the time?” 

“Yea, so?” 

“Do you remember Dr. Miguel Monsoya?” 

“Yea. How could I forget. He's that eccentric Romanian archaeologist, who also dabbles in ancient magic ceremonies, and fancies himself a modern-day, Merlin. Why do you ask?” 

“Remember your promise?”   
“Oh yea,” she snaps her fingers, yawning, still tired. “I met him, right after Monkey Fist tricked me into retrieving his last monkey idol”. 

“He helped you figure out: What those idols were? How he intended on using them? As well as when and where the ceremony would take place?” 

“Enough history. We aren't in high school anymore. What does he want?” 

“Bandits raided his archaeological dig near Altava, Algeria. He called SHIELD. Nick Fury personally referred him unto us, specifically Team Possible. Furry masked assailants..." 

Ron stayed quiet as long as he could bewailing, “Monkey Ninjas?” 

“Not even close, Monkey Boy,” he shakes his head pitting the blonde. “These assailants wore black mask with red suits bearing Greek lettering”. 

“Gemini,” Ron grits his teeth. No longer haunted by monkey ninja day-mares. 

“What were they after, Wade?” Kim chuckles over his abrupt change in demeanor. 

“An ancient scroll called the Viper's Eye Scrolls”. 

“Ah, damn,” Kim slings her alarm clock across the room. Its plastic case shatters into a million tiny pieces upon impacting the wall. 

“Kim?” Ron gets worried. She stays high-strung, but never like this. 

“You already know what the Viper's Eye is? Don't you, Kim?” Wade shared Ron's concern. 

“Time's still on our side. For now,” she doesn't waste time with frivolous explanations. “Gemini must still decipher that scroll. And I already know where he's headed?” 

“Where?” 

“Not over insecure airwaves”. 

“Ron, meet me outside your house in 10-minutes wearing your full mission gear,” she abruptly kills he connection, as did Ron. 

Wade stared into the blank screen. He recognized that subtle undertone. All to well. And knew she'd never reveal their destination til this mission's over with. “Okay,” he battles lingering doubts. 

A New Side Of You

Kim throws back her covers, swings both legs around, and plants her feet firm on the floor. Time limited, she rummages through her closet donning her mission gear in record breaking time. She checks her gear tripping tapping her kimmunciator on the way outside. Her battle armors slips over every curve. She glances at her watch. 

11-minutes. Dressing took longer than anticipated. She'd lost precious time. Gemini or any other rival could already be where they're headed. Kim rushes into the parking lot, settles behind her wheel, snaps her safety belt, and turns over the ignition. She throws her car into gear leaving nothing but rubber behind. She reaches Ron's house two blocks away in well under 30-seconds. Kim gets so close pulling her emergency brake and cutting her wheel sharply. Her car skids into a 180-degree sliding turn. 

Ron dives over his front lawn, sure, she'd crash, run over him, or both. 

Her car comes to rest by his curb. The front bumper pointed back the way she'd came. Kim revs her engine, even honks her horn twice, "C'mon, Ron! Let's move!" 

“KP...” He opens the passenger side door with a smile. 

“Business, now. Small talk, later,” she tells him curtly, barely giving him enough time to snap his safety belt. Kim jams her accelerator passing 80-mph in 3-seconds flat. 

“What the...” Ron protests under his breath. Limbs trembling and stomach pitted. His whole body jostled about by such erratic driving. He might have objected, only didn't get the chance. 

“Annie, initiate Twin Ruby protocol”. 

The AI disconnects its core personality matrix. Annie connects into her newly installed matrix, before coming back online and replying, “Done, Kim”. 

A section of the dash peels back and small drawer extends towards them. New kimmunicators lay inside: one with a red band and other, blue. Kim discards her old device retrieving and fastening the red one around her left wrist. “Ron, put yours on,” she urges him without much explanation.

“KP,” he does as instructed discarding his old Ronnicator for the new, “what's going on here?” 

“Everything will be answered momentarily,” she implores he trust her a little longer. 

“Okay,” he sets aside his concerns and mounting, unanswered questions. 

*

“Annie, connect into Middleton Space Center”. 

“Connection established, Kim”. 

“Where's Colonel Hawke?” 

“I've triangulated his bio-implant inside your dad's lab”. The AI projects surveillance footage into her dash screen.

"Damn", she curses under her breath. 

Ron was already stressed enough. He knew they'd accepted SHIELD's mission, not they were actually working under Fury's aegis. 

“Annie, ring Colonel Hawke's DOD satellite phone”. 

Annie transmits her NSC special DOD authorization code access their communication network. Her signal bounces around the globe on top secret satellites ringing the colonel's phone. 

Colonel Ethan Hawke answers on the third ring, “Colonel Hawke”. 

“Colonel, it's Kim Possible”. 

“Miss, how'd you get...” 

“Now's the time to shut up and listen, not bore me with DOD regulations. Put me through unto General Rawlings”. She'd rather call him direct. Washington felt that'd create ripples in the ranks. 

“You can't be serious!” He condescends. 

“Colonel, check my security clearance and authorization codes. They're authentic, right?” 

“Well yea,” he hesitates with lingering doubts. “But...” 

“But nothing,” she cinches this argument before it starts. “Colonel, advise your superiors that Black Sands isn't a myth. Millions will die, unless you do you job. And now!” 

General Rawlings had only briefed him 24-hours ago about this operation. And he still didn't know specifics. Only, Black Sands concerned every intelligence agency, underworld figure, and lone hunter seeking some WMD. Not even a soldier. And yet, this child seem to know more than him. It defied all logic, and security. “Are you sure, Miss?” 

“Positive,” she fumed over him trying to brush her off. “Put it this way. Brush me aside and your pathetic career will be the least of your worries. You'll face FISA charges for complicity in domestic acts of terrorism on home soil leading unto the death of millions. I'll personally see that ICJ sentences you unto the deepest, darkest hellhole imaginable. Do you understand me...now, Mister?” 

“Putting your through, Miss Possible”. 

Show of Force

Ron marveled, how his girlfriend so easily intimidates not just him but colonels, too. He could hear a cell phone ringing on the other end. 

“General Rawlings,” a gruff voice snaps on the fifth ring. 

“General...”

“Who is this?” 

“My name's Kim Possible,” she confirms her identity, per standard operating procedure (SOP). She couldn't simply say. I'm S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Kim Possible. Ron was present. And he didn't know. 

“What gives you the right to call my line? Do you know how many laws...?” 

“Bureaucrats!” Kim touts bitterly, “you're all the same, whether you wear three-piece suits or three-stars. You're clearly incompetent, or you'd recognize my security clearance, granted by the Director of National Intelligence, Jeremiah Rhodes, and the Secretary General of the United Nations, Wilber Cosgrove. And, if those names aren't enough, do you remember the NSC?” 

General Rawlings pales under those names. He reexamines her credentials flashing across his desk computer, quickly realizing President Thomas stamped this operation, himself. He drops the attitude and asks her nicely, “How may I assist you, Miss...?” He lets her name hang. 

“Possible,” she plays his little bureaucratic game. A way, insecure types like him employ for putting the little person in her place. “Miss Possible, or Agent Possible, either will work, General. Anyway, I called per President Thomas' instructions alerting you...” 

“About what?” He hangs onto her every word. 

“Black Sands”. Just those two words proved enough. 

For centuries, legends and lore spoke about ancient scrolls foretelling an ancient WMD. Historians and archaeologists alike dismissed them as fables. A months ago, an archaeologist dug up an ancient scroll, dubbed the Viper's Eye. The glyphs spoke about a weapon of unimaginable power, built by the gods, eons ago, before written text first appeared on Earth. Every intelligence agency worldwide, lone vigilante, and underworld factions are battling to possess such power. “How close is this?” 

“Gemini's already ahead the arms race,” Kim sums up their situation. “Thirty WEE agents raided Dr. Monsoya's archaeological dig last night. None of his crew were killed or hurt, but the bandits got away with the first Viper's Eye Scroll. For this reason, I've activated Aurora Knight”. 

“No,” he objects her decision, “you can't...” 

“Let's get one thing straight, General. I don't need, nor am I seeking, your permission. I'm relaying a mission update through you per SOP. Period. Your objection is duly noted, my decision still stands, until the committee, the Director of National Intelligence, or President Thomas himself say otherwise. So deal with it, General”. 

“A security detail will meet you outside Sabertooth”. Sabertooth was restricted hangar deep inside MSC currently housing Project Titan. 

Where Few Have Gone

Ron starts seriously worrying about this mission's nature, when their vehicle passes three local cops and a Colorado state trooper standing still. Annie's speedometer passing 220-mph (or 354-km/h). And local authorities didn't bother pursuing them. He studies his best friend's face. 

Kim banks a hard right skidding into MSC's back gate. She stops outside the guard shack honking her horn tersely. 

“Morning, Miss Possible,” a female guards greet toting a clipboard. 

 

“Soon to be, Dr. Possible,” Kim teases with a wink displaying her badge. 

“Well, Dr. Possible, what about him?” 

“He's my partner. And we're on a secret mission”. 

Gracie Bradschaw chuckles aloud. “Here,” she hands over a visitor's tag. “Just remember...” 

“His 'visitor' tag must be worn at all times. He will. I promise”. 

“See that he does,” Gracie eases back inside her booth pressing the red button. Locking mechanisms whirl and entry access arm rises into the air. Kim eases onto the lot, drives past several buildings, and turns into Sabertooth's parking lot. She jumps out without explanation. 

Ron didn't have a clue where they were headed. He stayed hot on her heels. Kim activates her car's anti-theft countermeasures. Both make a beeline for the restricted hangar. 

Most MSC employees avoided Sabertooth at all costs. Six DOD guards stood outside the facility at all times, and who know how many inside. And, as two investigative reporters classified as spies found out, the hard way, they didn't mind shooting people on sight. 

His daughter worked at MSC nearly 2-years. She'd never been late once. Her shift started over 45-minutes ago. She still wasn't here, nor answering her phone. Patience worn thin and own imagination running wild. James Possible scours the nearby facilities for her. Security was one thing. Paranoia was another. She couldn't easily get herself shot by wondering into the wrong area, lately. He rounds the building across from Sabertooth spotting his Kimmie-Cub. 

All six guards spot the teens heading their way. Three remain at their post outside the entrance. Three venture ahead a ways. Two kneels down with rifles cocked targeting both teens. The senior guard moves a little closer but stops near the hangar's walk. 

The family motto was one thing. Going near that place was suicide. James Possible ran with his full might shouting, “Kimmie-Cub,” over and over.

She waits on him to catch up. "What do you want, Dad?" 

"You really don't want to go near that place, Darling. They'll...” 

“I must go inside, Dad. President Thomas assigned Team Possible a very important mission. That assignment requires we go inside”. 

“Well,” he hesitates, a battle brewing in his mind. The patriot cheered her oath of duty. The father knew, however, whatever was inside Sabertooth was bad news. “Be safe, Kimmie-Cub,” he finally relents, and walks away glancing over his shoulder every so often. He prayed they didn't shoot her on sight. 

By The Power Vested In Me

Kim grasps Ron's outstretched hand steadying both their nerves, before heading closer towards the head guard again. 

“Halt there,” he'd only let them get so close. 

Both teens stop, raising both hands over their heads. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Black Sands, Sergeant Donahue,” she reads his name-tag. 

Sergeant Donahue relaxes his stance. His companions didn't. His mind kicks into overdrive blurting, “But, you're mere children. What part could mere children play in preventing Black Sands?” 

“If I may lower my right hand...?” 

“Very slowly, Miss”. 

Kim complies, producing her credentials. 

He accepts her paperwork with some trepidation. It appeared authentic enough. He'd seen plenty of forgeries, some even more convincing than the real thing. He scans her orders paling over what crossed his computer screen. The sergeant simply stared, dumbstruck, and in shock. 

Kim waits 30-seconds or more. He doesn't say a word or move a muscle. She clears her throat, sharply, lowering both hands. “Inside now”. 

Ron accepts, intimidation is one of her superpowers. Now so wasn't the time. “KP,” he rebukes sharply, refusing to tempt fate by dropping his hands. 

James Possible couldn't return unto work without knowing his little girl's fate. He peers around the corner of an adjacent building. He witnesses his daughter drop her hands ordering these guards. He, too, shared Ron's concern, and they weren't holding him at gunpoint. 

Imagine his surprise, when hardened soldiers bow unto her will. “This way, Miss”. Every soldier steps aside clearing a path. Kim and Ron disappear inside. All six guards resume their posts outside the very building. 

*

Inside. The entry opened unto a long, dimly lit but narrow hall. More Pentagon soldiers stood in full attention along both sides, further constricting their walking space. Kim and Ron could proceed side-by-side. Kim takes the lead. 

He'd done countless mission, and encountered rogue golfers, mad scientists, master thieves, divas, socialites, deadly mercenaries, even rogue ninjas. None of their lairs ever had this much security. Worse yet, their crimson eyes marked his every step. “KP,” he starts to freak. 

Kim resisted the urge to scream, 'Grow up, Ron!" But didn't. The stakes were too high. She couldn't alienate her partner. Too many lives depended on them being in-sync. “Ron, simply keep your head down and don't challenge the guards by staring them in the eye. And you'll be fine”. 

“Okay, KP”.

Ron proves so distraught. It took his full concentration to simply put one foot ahead the other, that is, without winding up face down on the floor. Never tense and limb stiff like bricks. He didn't feel the needle puncture his lower neck. He takes several unsteady steps, before collapsing asleep. 

“You two, help me load him onto Alaina,” Kim randomly selects two soldiers.

“Yes, Ma'am,” both salute, gathering up the blonde. The hall abruptly seemed shorter without Ron's whining. Sensors detect their approach auto-opening two doors ahead. 

Kim struts into the hangar, like she owned the place, ordering, “Alaina, open the hatch”. 

The AI analyzes the speaker's voice even comparing her current and last bio-metric readings, for added security. “Welcome aboard, Kim,” Alaina greets, extending the boarding plank. 

All doubts evaporate. “Alpha-Two-Zero-Bravo-Charlie are aboard and awaiting your orders, Miss Possible,” the senior ranking officer advises Team Possible's leader, before exiting the saucer. 

Alaina activates her hard particle simulator resembling an C-130 military transport plane. For now. Kim taxies the craft outside the hangar and onto MSC's back, isolated runway. She reaches cruising speed slowly rising into the air.   
She taxies down the space center's nearest runway. She reaches cruising speed rising into the air.


	2. Playing For Keeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A war's looming between humans and mutants. Team Possible tried to stay neutral during this whole affair. SHIELD assigns tests the team's resolve by assigning their most dangerous mission ever. Kim and Ron must recover this scroll. And they're not alone. Rival organizations, intelligence agencies, and rogues are seeking this artifact. The duo must watch their back every step, while navigating their way through an ancient temple, avoiding its intricately laid traps, and battling its guardians. How will they fair?

Two Can Play This Game

Kim waits til farther outside the city, drops their disguise, and engages the cloak. Alaina sustains Mach-6 reaching the Kara-Kum Desert in Turkmanenistan, south of the Aral Sea. Kara-Kum in Turkish translates, 'Black Sands,' and while many find this site simply fascinating; conspiracists saw its very creation as marking the greatest international cover-up. Ever. 

Soviet engineers surveyed a site near Derweze, Turkmenistan. All agreed, they'd discovered a rich oil vein. These same engineers set up camp even erecting an oil rig. Their drill, however, struck natural gas, not oil. The gases sudden release destabilized the bedrock roundabout them. Their camp and rig, collapsed into a subterranean cavern beneath creating a gaseous crater. 

This crater covers 6,398.55 square yards (or 5,350 square meters); roughly 1.3 acres. The engineers feared, the escaping methane vapors posed an imminent danger unto those living nearby. They solved this threat by setting the vapors ablaze. Best estimates theorized, it's burn a week, maybe three tops. It's been ominously burning nonstop nearly 40 years. 

As they always do. Conspiracy theories sprouted amidst the ensuing chaos. Few people gave these rumors much credibility. Then, the president of Turkmenistan ordered the site officially closed in 2010. These same rumors—thought long forgotten—gained traction overnight. The president claimed, his country would tap and export their natural gas, like Saudi Arabia its oil. 

Conspiracists didn't buy his 'cover,' not more than the soviet's in '71. Many argued, this gas crater was a popular tourist attraction netting the local merchants and governments millions in revenue; not to mention, many consider this a holy site. And now, they abruptly shut it down without warning. A great controversy arose behind this site. The global media dubbed it 'the gates of hell'. 

Those supporting its closure counter argued, these rumors—and rumors are all they are—persisted over the last four decades. They'd been told and retold, even embellish so many times. Even if, and that would be a big if, there were any morsel of truth when these cursed rumors started. They'd been lost a long time ago. Even such staunch logic didn't dissuade these modern conspiracists. 

The paparazzi only helped spread these groundless rumors faster. In mid-2015, a doctored photo hits the airwaves. It depicted U.N., Soviet, and local troops securing the site, as well as international contractors bringing in heavy excavation equipment. An undercover reporter documented Dr. Erol Demirci, a world renowned Turkish neuro-cellular biologist, and Dr. Anastasia Valentina, a renown Russian-American forensic linguist. 

Both scientists are reputed being involved with secret international alien research. That's all it took. Two theories took precedence over all others. UFO enthusiasts theorized, an alien ship's crash-landing formed the giant crater. And the soviet engineers ignited the flames, assuming it'd last three weeks tops, then, they could tunnel beneath the debris recovering any salvageable tech later. 

Others proved a little more pragmatic. They didn't buy the UFO theory. Rather, this group mused a secret soviet 'Cold War' defense project gone bad being responsible. Either way, both groups agreed on two things. First, something of immeasurable power was buried beneath this crater. And whoever had this WMD could become the next superpower. 

That belief alone ignited the next international arms race. And not just between American and the Soviet Union. In fact, Germany, China, Japan, Brazil, India, and Saudi Arabia joined this fight. All seeking world domination, only in a little different light.

All these and many other thoughts raced through her mind. Kim took comfort in one thing. Luckily, they were headed for the most isolated section of the Bulkan Daglary Range. She took over manual control hugging the ground at nominal speed. Kim lands near their destination. 

Point of Descent

“Alaina, keep your sensors peeled. Let me know the second any company diverts back out way". 

“Will do, Kim,” Alaina scans the area. 

“Commander Moreheim, secure everything within 2 clicks”. 

“Yes, Ma'am”. 

“Ron, wake up,” she nudges his left shoulder. 

The blonde slaps away her hand grumbling groggily. He turns over, slips out his chair, and bangs his head hard on deck crying aloud cursing bitterly under his breath. 

“Ron. Ron,” she shakes him lightly, “we're here”. 

Ron stretches his limbs yawning groggily. Eyes heavy and muscles tense. He leans over kissing her softly. He breaks her embrace glancing around. “Whoa! Where are we?” 

“You're aboard...” 

“Whoa,” Ron twirls around the bridge. “This thing talks...” 

Alaina takes exception over his comment reproving, “This thing is an Autonomic Living Artificial Intelligence in National Aeronautics-Defense, or Alaina, for shot”. 

“Ron, meet Alaina. She's another Annie”. 

“...only a flying saucer,” he boasts. “Way cooler!” 

“C'mon, Ron,” she giggles, nudging his right arm lightly, before disembarking the saucer. 

Ron wasn't far behind. He stops, spotting their climbing equipment spread out, grousing, “Ah, man, not again”. 

“Sorry, Ron, it's the only way there”. 

“It would be,” he gets in one last gripe. Kim chuckles under her breath, deeply touched. He had so many phobias. Great elevations topping even monkeys. And yet, he swallows his anxieties donning his rappelling harness, gloves, knee pads, and ropes, still going down after her. 

Kim hooks her locking carabiner into her harness' loop. She folds her rope passing both loops into the big-hole of the figure eight device, folds them over its shaft, and locks the small hole inside the locking carabiner, remembering to to lock the device in place. She anchors their main line around a large boulder, leans back putting her weight on the harness and steps over the edge. 

She stops every 25-30-ft (or 7.62-9.14-meters) driving in anchoring bolts. Overkill, she knew. Alas, it'd help belay Ron's paranoia and decrease drag in the ropes. She glances above spotting him already descending behind. Two hours. She repeats the same procedure til dangling near the autolock knot 500-ft (or 152.40-meters) below. 

Kim halves her second rope anchoring it through the nearest bolt hanger, being sure to also thread it through the carabiner. She begins to slowly abseil stopping every 25-30-ft (or 7.62-9.14-meters) to drill another locking bolt in place, and threading the rope through its hanger, too. Another hour and half passes in stark silence. 

Every muscle burned with exertion. Her mouth parched with thirst and skin baked red under this boiling desert sun. Temperatures reaching well over 120oF (or 48.89oC). Alaina beeps her kimmunicator alerting her: she'd arrived at her destination. 

“Alaina,” she snaps, “where's the opening?” 

“The structure's located three caves over from your position”. 

“Thank you,” Kim swings her climbing gear latching onto the nearest rock formation. She drives another bolt into the base threading her rope through and lowering herself parallel with the desired cave. She grips the climbing rope swinging her legs back and forth. Her feet touches the cave's ledge, but slips. She swings out one last time coming back faster. The redhead lands, kneeling on the ledge. 

Prophecy, Past and Present

“Alert, Alert”. 

“Alaina, what's wrong?” 

“Kim, we have three aircrafts in-bound—an XC-2, KC-39, and KU-30”. 

“Japan, Brazil, and Russia. Their operatives are closer than ever. What exactly are they doing at this precise moment?” 

“They're busy sweeping the desert with Phase-6 ground penetrating satellite scans about 30 klicks due east”. 

“What else?” 

“The Russian team's running scans equivalent unto America's KH-11 and KH-12 satellite scans, combined with SBIRS high and low altitude scans. All three are communication over their nation's own version of our MILSTAR communication system”. 

“Have they spotted us yet?” 

“Not yet. Advise your partner, he'd best hurry or risk exposure within six minutes. This cave is rich in barite deposits, the same mineral we derive barium. It might be sufficient to conceal your presence, even from their FLIR and geo-thermal scans, if you both use the Mode-4 setting on your enviro-suits. Your heat signature should sync with the cave's”. 

“Ron, copy that?”

“Yea, KP,” she still detects the slight edge in his voice. 

“Get down, or we're dead”. 

He swallows hard keeping his eyes straight ahead. Look up or down and he'd lose what little nerve he had left. “Be down in 3-minutes, KP”. 

Kim knew, either pace restlessly waiting on him or use this time constructively. She studies a plague erected below the temple's portico. That way, maybe she could uncover what booby-traps, if any, may await them inside. Time flies by faster than realized. 

Ron reaches the cave's ledge. He discerns his partner's preoccupation. He knew better than disturb a brain in action. He eases a little closer clearing his throat, lightly. 

Kim glances up and smiles, only to return to studying the temple's hieroglyphics. 

“KP, what's so fascinating here?” His curiosity piqued beyond measure. 

“It's an ancient prophecy, Ron?” 

“What does it say?” 

“The prophecy is quite ominous, 'The village of the great mountain and its loyal subjects scattered across the four winds herald the Empress beyond the stars, who wedded the King of the hoary moon, and birthed the Jewel of the Knights. Many moons pass. The Dragon Star arose, spreading dissension and war. His crown stained with blood. Loyal servants hid the crown's sacred Jewel.

She became a War Princess vowing vengeance upon this usurper. A fierce, bloody battle raged many days. This usurper fail, and great was his fall. She absorbed his essence denying his rest. The empire of the great mountain was once again delivered into royal hands. The War Princess ruled with honor. None dared oppose her will. Her legacy spread across the four corners. Even the mightiest paled against she who wielded the holy five”. 

“What does it mean?” 

“I don't know. Exactly. This prophecy recounts events long ago, but warns about its recurrence. It seems, an alien monarch, possibly a goddess—denoted by the Empress beyond the stars—came unto the Earth. The village of the great mountain—those roundabout this place, I assume, blessed her union unto their sovereign ruler—King below the hoary moon. A daughter was conceived.

Not everyone accepted this goddess becoming queen. An usurper—the Dragon Star—gathered a mighty army threatening this dynasty. Civil war broke out costing countless lives. Either way, the king and queen both perished in defending their land. The Dragon Star ascended their thrones intending on solidifying his reign by forcibly marrying the young princess. 

Only, loyal servants fled with the young babe, sometime before the palace fell into enemy hands. This princess grew up, no doubt, embittered over her parents' murders. She trained harder than most men becoming a fierce warrior princess, known as the Jewel of the Knights. She led a revolt deposing this usurper, the Dragon Star. Her legacy and kingdom spread unto the four corners of the globe”. 

“What about this 'power of the holy five,' KP?” 

“That, I don't know,” she shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe an answer awaits us inside. C'mon”. 

Ascending Into The Deep

Kim ascended the steps leading inside testing their structural soundness. She marveled over its architects' ode to simplicity. The entry wasn't adorned with gold, silver, brass, or any precious gems, as would seem befitting such a mighty war-princess. 

In fact, it didn't bear any distinguishing features. The portico was small, around 30-meters (or 98.5-feet), supported by four square huge Romanesque rounded-grooved columns, space equally 7.5-meters apart, along the aisle. The architects carved an extinct vine species growing out the temple's foundation, wrapping around every column, and stopping near their volute crown. Each column supported the architrave, frieze, and triangular raking cornices with inlaid pediments. 

What made this so remarkable? These individual parts weren't built with individual free-standing parts. No, these architects hewed each section of our solid rock, and without destabilizing the cave's bedrock. One thing captivated her attention. The architrave bore the five elements: Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, and Ether. The frieze warned about tests awaiting all who consider themselves worthy to venture into Aconasema's presence. She wisely didn't translate that last part. 

Kim cautiously ascends three steps leading inside the structure. Its entry opened unto an octagonal chamber. She'd no sooner stepped inside. A rounded section of the cave floor peels back revealing a shallow three-tier basin pool, presumably where worshipers cleansed their hands and feet before ever venturing into this princess' presence. 

Hieroglyphs presented another riddle unto all worshipers. Kim read it aloud, “A cloud is my mother, the wind my father, the cool stream my brother, and fruit of the earth my daughter. The rainbow is my only bed, and the earth my final resting place. This is the cycle of life. Here and beyond'. 

“What does it mean, KP?” 

Truth was. She didn't know. Exactly. She gives a rough translation, “It cautions against neglecting one's own heritage in light of societal views or technological advancements”. Kim spots another glyph above the basin depicting worshipers kneeling amidst its sacred waters. Heads bowed. And eyes shut, she guessed. It was traditional where she attended worship. 

Kim sweeps her heels around the basin uncovering more glyphs. These foretold worshipers being presented with three avenues for entering the queen's presence. Choose wrong and it mean immediate death. The waters were murky black, polluted by centuries of neglect. Kim descends three steps, wades halfway across the basin, and kneels down as depicted. Head bowed. And eyes shut. 

Ron held his breath anxiously shuffling his feet. Hollywood's greatest goriest adventure movies racing through his head. The adventurer gets inside the tomb or temple, only to trip countless ingenious traps. And still nothing occurred. 

“Ah, forget this,” he cries in exasperation.

Kim hears his proclamation. She opens her eyes whipping her head around. She spots him making his way around the pool. “Ron, no,” she tries to stop him. Alas, it was too late. 

Mind Over Matter

Ron steps wrong. His left foot depresses a certain stone. A stone door drops over the temple's entrance trapping them inside. Six coves open ahead them. Three snakes slither out each. 

Each serpent was 3.3-4.9-ft (or 1-1.5-meters) long. Their heads depressed and elliptical. Their snots short and rounded with flared nostrils. Eyes serpentine black. Scale smooth and oblique. Dark and light cross-bands equally spaced over their bodies, colors ranging from light yellow to choc-brown. Each seemed to sense their presence. More than a few stood alert swaying back and forth with hoods out, bearing their fangs, and extending their forked tongues, hissing even. 

“What the hell are those things?”

Kim cuts her eyes sharply. 

“Snakes, I know,” Ron cedes. “But, what kind?” 

“Probably Caspian Cobras”.

“Let me guess, they're poisonous”. 

“Good guess, Ron,” Kim snaps, irked over his carelessness. She rises, intending on leaving the pool. The vipers lay down upon their bellies slithering towards them again. Kim resumes kneeling. 

Even Ron noticed, every serpent immediately stops and backs up. “Stay, KP, stay,” he whines. “Whatever you do. Just stay”. 

“Ron, I'm not a dog”. 

“Maybe not,” he accedes but points out, “move and we're snake food”. 

“We can't stay here forever, Ron,” she eyes him but holds her pace, realizing. Such nonsense was how he dealt with life's peculiarities. She notices a circular groove separating the inset basin and hall, leading into the temple's next chamber. Snake. Food. A random thought hits her mind. “Ron, you may have just saved the day. Again”. 

“I did?” 

Kim grabs a pottery vase gather some water. She exits the ankle basin. 

“KP, what're you doing?” 

“Remember the riddle? I figured it out. It's a warrior's greatest test. How can he/she overcome great adversity without resorting to unnecessary violence? We'll face five challenges inside this temple. This is our 'Earth' challenge: the great stones, water (more sediment than liquid), snakes, etc. She pours the water inside the indentation. 

The vipers all disappear back inside their alcove. A scraping noise emanates all around them as each snake's alcove seals shut again. All water drains out the basin revealing a secret alcove. A section slides back, and tiny pedestal rises up beneath displaying a square chunk of rock. 

“What's that?” 

“My trophy,” Kim claims her prize, “and permission to proceed onto the next challenge”.

Wash Your Troubles Away

Three paths lay before them. Two wrong and one right. The wrong choice would mean death. She wasn't sure which to choose.

Kim rests her souvenir on the floor. Stone doors slam shut block all three choices. Kim backs away suspecting she'd tripped another booby-trap. Only, a slab about 10-meters ahead scrapes open revealing secret stairs leading down into the temple's next level. 

Kim and Ron descend into the circular passage. Flashlights dead. No moonlight or torches. And yet, everything was bathed in amber light. Somehow. An ancient coat of arms sparkled under its ethereal glow. Kim ventures closer reading the shield's riddle, “One thing is more precious than gold, purer than the highest quality diamond, the source of all life, and the purveyor of all truth”. 

“What's with this place and riddles? I feel like I'm back in high school,” Ron complains, rubbing his throbbing head. 

“We're in the water chamber, Ron”. 

“The next portion of our challenge?” 

“Exactly,” she grasps a hold the sword's hilt. A jolt of electricity surges through her physical body. Instincts screams, 'Pull back your hand. Make the pain stop'. Only her hand wouldn't comply. Silvery nano-tech armor slips over her body. 

Ron backs away gaping in terror repeating, “KP,” over and over, each time louder than before. 

She never gets a chance to respond. A stone partition slams over where they came, and another. Kim backs up against the partition separating them, waiting. Two sections of the wall ahead open to reveal some  
kind of terracotta warriors, 10-12 feet (or 304.8-365.76-cm), possibly some form of ancient cybernetics. Both guardians step into open view extending large metallic swords. Kim does the same. 

The duo accept her challenge striking the floor. That must've triggered something. Secret alcoves open along adjacent walls. Gallons of water pour inside the chamber. The influx proves so strong. She could barely stay on her feet, let alone fight; not counting the armors weight, too. She harnesses her full might attacking. 

Both guardians match her move. Blow for blow. As if knowing what she'd do, even before she struck. The waters reach her waist in no time. Current growing stronger as water poured inside with increasing volumes. Both guardians simply swirling their swords agitating the current more, slamming her hard partition to partition. Kim groans, as every muscle ached from overexertion. 

Ron heard swords clanking loudly. Water seep beneath the partition dividing the chambers. He was near panic. Kim fighting for her very life. And, here he was, stuck on the opposite side, powerless to do anything to help. He'd tried calling up his mystical monkey powers, only something about this place blocked them. 

Kim, in the meantime, leaned against the same partition. She realized she couldn't win by sheer force alone. The guardians didn't attack her standing stationary, as if guardian something. But what? The waters steadily rose parallel with her breasts. She didn't have long, or it's curtains. Inspiration hit, she recalled the message on the temple's architrave and frieze. The solution unto her trouble popped into her mind. 

Kim tossed aside her sword, a symbol of anger and aggression. She gripped her shield tighter than ever. She dove beneath the swirling waters. A temple guardian jabbed where she dove. His sword hit her shield snapping in half. Its wielder simply crumbled into a million pieces, only to be swept away and dissolved by the turbulent waters. His companion was still very much alive. 

Kim came back up gasping for air. The waters rose til parallel with her neck. Strong currents didn't hinder her opponent's agility. This stony monstrosity swing with its full might. Kim turns over. His sword impacts her shield driving her underwater. This one didn't crumble like his partner. The blow propels her between its massive legs. She comes up behind the massive guardian. 

Kim whistles. Her opponent starts to turn around. Sword held parallel with its waist. Kim didn't wait, she tosses her shield spiraling through the air. Her adversary turns, not having time to block. The shield cracks the crown, lodge deep inside its forehead. The things still didn't crumble, only render it completely blind. 

The waters continued to rise above her head. She didn't have long. The entire chamber would be flooded, and she'd drown within 2-minutes. Kim enacts her boldest move yet. She scales the stony monstrosity's middle body clawing her way up its plump chest. Being blind didn't hinder its battle skills. This thing could still feel her presence. Somehow. Its hands grasp left and right trying to grab a hold. Kim reaches its shoulder, removes her last trophy, and jumps wedging the rock inside the groove above this chamber's exit, this guardian found so hard to safeguard. 

All waters immediately stopped pouring inside. The temple guardian dissolved into nothingness. A section of the floor opened to drain the excess water. Kim slowly floated down til her feet touched solid earth. The partitions even retracted separating her and Ron. 

Ron could care less about etiquette. His eyes bulge and heart boil over with joy. He races into the chamber, picks up his girlfriend, twirling her around in a bear-hug proclaiming, “You're alive”. 

“I love you, too,” she returns his affections by kissing him more passionately than ever. Just glad to still be alive. Their heavy petting session interrupted when her souvenir crashes against the chamber floor and another section of the floor peels back revealing a hidden alcove. Another pedestal rises up presenting a vine idol.


	3. Trial By Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim and Ron breach the temple. So far, their competitors haven't found it. Kim already knew the temple's location. She accidently stumbled across its location years earlier, while fleeing some very dangerous men. She never told anyone its location, not her G.J. superiors, her parents, partner, or her tech wizard, not did she write about it inside her online diary. She returns, facing the temple guardians' many trials meeting the ultimate guardian face to face.

Trial By Fire

Kim grabs her victory moving towards the next chamber and her next challenge. 

Ron resolves, he'd never to be stand-offish again. He came close to losing her this time. He waltzes over and grasps her hand. A silent gesture, he'd never leave her side again. This temple seemed to see and recognize their unity. An adjacent wall creaks open, again after their join hands, stirring dust and revealing yet another spiraling staircase. 

Kim starts down first with Ron in close tow. The couple continues their steady descent, til reaching this chamber's lower level. Again, there wasn't any candles, torches, flashlights, or external lights. This whole chamber shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Ron steps across the lower level's threshold. An invisible presence reaches out lighting a central fire-pit illuminating the whole chamber. 

Both glance roundabout themselves, awe-stricken by this chamber's enormous size and opulent beauty. The enclosure was oval-shaped comprising approximately 6,000-square feet (or 560-square meters), capped with a rocky dome and overlaid in pure gold, though weathered by the elements. The architects clearly spent a great deal of time on this chamber. 

They'd carved lustrous, decorative alcoves with ethereal designs, all spaced equally 46.67-square meters apart. Each adorned with arched triangular overhangs and ornamental pilasters. A tiny statuette sat inside each alcove. Each statuette fashioned into the likeness of some alien creature or extinct animals, probably extolling some long-lost god/goddess. 

The fire-pit hadn't been lit in thousands, possibly millions of years. And yet, it'd not only lit itself, but grows hotter than ever. Kim and Ron hold hands backing away uneasily. Octopus tentacles sprout amidst the living inferno. Both cede, there might be some truth behind this place's alien origins. Those appendages surely weren't attached to any land dwelling animal or sea creature they'd ever heard about. 

The outer skin was smooth, covered in emerald-green scales. Cactus needles grew out their center. A fiery blood-red liquid-acid oozed outs it pores. A single drop crepitated noisily scorching the stones beneath roundabout the pit. That was enough to freak anyone out. These tentacles tipped the weird meter, keenly aware of their presence, and swaying in sync with the pit's roaring flames. 

These movements weren't random, by a long shot. There was an intelligence behind them, almost like an alien war dance to challenge them without words. A lone tentacle lashes towards them but stops short, only to resume its war dance. Kim decides to mimic this creature's exotic moves, simply to get this test over with more than anything else. 

Ron freaks out backing away but stops upon realizing. Kim wasn't doing the same. She stops her dance and just stood there in open defiance. Fists clenched. Teeth gritted. Chanting, he guessed. Her lips moved but she spoke in a language he'd never heard. She reaches into her scabbard, before her could react, drawing her sword again. The same silvery nano-tech armor slips over her body, like a form-fitting bodysuit, head to toe. 

Whatever this thing was? It sensed to sense its opponent being ready for battle. The same tentacle as earlier lashes out and didn't stop this time. Kim charges it head-on somersaulting over. She spirals midair splice the appendage with her blade. A piercing shriek rebounds around the oval room. Kim deduces relatively easy. 

This thing wasn't man or beast. Neither could live inside that cauldron of fire. Which only left plant creature, if this creature mimicked Earth's indigenous lifeforms. And knew you can only kill this weed one way. You must dig up its roots. Chop off the leaves or stems and this pest will only come back. Kim charges the fire-pit without explanation. 

“KP, what are you doing?” Ron cries, fearing, she'd lost her mind. He couldn't imagine her motives behind such brash, plainly suicidal, attack. 

Kim cries in utter abandonment. Her savage shrill reverberate so loudly. The echo drowns him out completely. Another tentacle lashes out. Kim leaps into the air twirling like a cyclone cleaving it down the middle and blocking two more with her metallic shield. She lands with cat-like precision, amidst piercing cries emanating all around them, deeper and more pained than ever. 

A bloody tentacle catches her by surprise, picks her up, and slams her against the far wall. Her armor shatters a statuette. A shiny bloodstone tumbles onto the stones beneath her feet. 

“Ron, I'll distract this creature. Shatter all these tiny statuettes, and gather up the precious stones inside. You'd best note each stone's particular alcove and statuette, too. They're our keys to defeating this thing, whatever the hell it might be”. 

“I'm on it, KP”. 

Purged By Fire

She'd faced numerous enemies during her career. She'd never battled an alien plant species, though. Kim sizes up her opponent, as best she could. She'd severed three tentacle, leaving nine. Whatever this thing was? It may be wounded but definitely wasn't down and somehow very much aware of its surroundings. 

Ron hadn't posed a threat til now. He'd shattered six more statuettes, leaving five. 

This plant creature obviously possessed some degree of sentient intelligence, and perceived them a team, and started to divide its attacks. Three tentacles lashed towards Kim. One attacked Ron. Its remaining tentacles guarded the last five statuettes. 

Ron easily dodges the appendage targeting him by flipping, dodging, and running around this huge chamber, while Kim took the more direct approach. 

Whether instincts or intelligence, its rash actions only confirmed her early suspicions. Their survival hinged on obtaining the jewels in the last statuettes. Kim does the unimaginable charging this creature headon. She waits til close enough leaps high and spiraling through the air. Her blade spun like an electric chopper amputating three more appendages. 

The creature wails in new depths of pain. The last six tentacles retract close unto its body. All six glowed charcoal black spewing lava-red liquid. The nano-armor help protect her body. Each droplet blazed red hot scorching the armor's exterior, and making things hotter inside. 

This botanic beast attempts to block her deadliest attack yet. All six tentacles last out but miss. 

Ron stops running. Bent over. Hands propped upon his knees. Breathing heavily, and glad to have a minute's rest regardless the reason. He no sooner catches his breath. He glances up, hollering, “KP, no!” His hands outstretched and teary-eyed, certain, no one could survive those temperatures. 

Mere seconds transpire. A sharp, piercing shrill reaches out the pit's lowest depths reverberating all around him. All six tentacles drop lifelessly roundabout him lying over the stony floor, still oozing black cold liquid, not red hot anymore. 

The pit started to bubble. A central bubble grows larger in size. Ron barely dives out of the way in time and shields his eyes. This bubble literally explodes, fiery lava scorches the ceiling and floors all around them spreading in every direction. His suit's shield alone protect him. Whatever she'd done?

Kim rebounds off the ceiling shattering another statuette. An emerald rolls off its incline and over against her feet. 

“KP?” Ron kneels alongside. Her armor still glowing red hot and smoking furiously. 

Kim retracts her armor. She inhales deeply easing her lung's burning. Hair and body so sopped with sweat. Her mission clothes snugged every luscious curve tighter than ever. 

“Uh.. hum... Ubba,” Ron stammers, actually drooling. 

Kim reaches up pinching his cheeks teasing, “Good to see I can still turn your head”. 

“Of course, you're the only one for me, KP,” sweat pours down his brow. “You know that”. Ron turns beet red in the face, leans down, and kisses her passionately. 

She breaks the kiss teasing, “Nice save, Lover Boy”. 

“What'd you do?” He gets serious again glancing back towards the fire-pit. 

“I cut out that beast's heart,” she produces a bloody crystalline organ. “Shatter the rest of these tiny statuettes and gather up the rest of these sacred jewels marking their alcoves”. She had a hunch, and silently prayed under her breath, that she was right. This chamber's architects paid close attention unto detail. There were twelve alcoves, each housing a different tiny statuette. Each statuette hid a sacred jewel inside. Adjacent unto each alcove was a slot bordering this fire-pit's perimeter”. 

“What do we do with these jewels?” 

“Place each sacred jewel inside the fire-pit slot, directly across from its alcove”. Ron follows her lead. The last jewel no sooner slides into place. Ancient gears, which probably hadn't operated in over a million years, shrill loudly kicking into action. Both heroes stop up their ears. Four pie slices slide over their secret alcoves and over the fire-pit, leaving a perfectly centered 3-inch (or 7.62-cm) hole. Kim inserts the creature's crystalline heart inside this aperture. 

The pit's fires quickly heats up the heart. And it didn't take long. The organ begins to sizzle red hot. Whether by design or accident, even she wasn't sure, the fire's ethereal glow refracts off its many tiny imperfections, projecting an ominously message onto the ceiling, “I don't have legs to dance, lungs to breathe, or a life to live of my own, and yet, I do all three”. 

She'd no sooner read the inscription. A section of the chamber peels back revealing the next leg of their journey into the temple's lower bowels. 

Kim opens her backpack gathering up the gemstones and heart. Sure, she'd need them again. For one reason or another. 

Silence of the Wind

Kim leads their way down into another dank passage. She had an especially bad feeling about this one. The stairway opened unto a rectangular chamber, hewed out of solid rock and supported by six square columns, set in a zigzag pattern. Each had two tiny inserts, apiece, clad with arched eaves, gold pilasters, more tiny statuettes, and hieroglyphs below the holes in their heads. 

Kim perceives their test, memorizing each column and statuette's approximate location, and not a moment too soon. The fire chamber's door grates close leaving them standing in abject darkness. Kim tries to activate her battle suit's lights, but couldn't. She tries her kimmunicator next. It was dead, too, along with all their electronic gadgets. Hers and Ron's. 

“KP”. 

She didn't answer right away. 

“KP!” He calls out louder. 

“Calm down, Ron,” she retracts her hermetic suit's helmet. 

“KP,” he squawks, concern saturated in terror. 

“What!?” 

“Why are your eyes glowing?” 

“What?”

“Your eyes,” he swallows nervously backing away from his partner, “they're glowing”. 

Sure enough. They were. She was so riled over their electronics failing. She didn't even notice her own eyes glowing. She concentrates on her surroundings. Her eyes somehow peel back the darkness. 

“Wait here, Ron,” she keeps her backpack close at hand. “This shouldn't take long”. 

“Okay, KP”. 

Kim vanishes amidst the darkness. She approaches and studies first column's alcove marking, and rifles through her backpack for the appropriate gemstones. She inserts the bloodstone in the right statue's forehead and the blood coral gem into the left's. She does the same appending...

the white sapphire into the second column's right statue, and moonstone into its left. 

the golden topaz into the third column's right statue, and blue sapphire into its left. 

A whooshing sound stops her cold. Kim listens closer but couldn't discern what's occurring. A rush of wind brushes her hair back. And she knew. “Ron, get your oxygen mask on. Now!” 

“Sure thing, KP,” he yells over the tempest. 

Kim knew, something was siphoning their air supply. And they'd been out within 2-minutes. Good thing their oxygen apparatuses were manual, and not digital, or they'd be dead. For sure. She puts hers on; only then realizing, it'd been damaged, probably when shot out the fire-pit. She works faster than ever; knowing, she only had whatever oxygen's left in the room. 

Spirit of the Wind

She approaches the 4th column studying its alcoves' markings. She riffles through her backpack for the right gemstones. It didn't take long with only six left. 

She inserts the opal stone into the right statue's forehead, and Apache tear stone into the left's. 

Air supply thinner. Her lungs razed more for each breath. Her eyes saw halos around everything. The darkness began to close in around her on every side. Her head throbbed with overexertion and lack of steady oxygen; light headed. 

Kim moves onto the 5th column ignoring her physical discomfort. Vision blurry, she could barely make out its markings. She rifles through her bag inserting...

the turquoise stone into the right statue's forehead, and black garnet into the left's forehead. 

Again. The redhead wearily moves onto the last column. The air had become so thin. She couldn't only inhale a partial breath. Kim relies on what she'd already breathed. Hoping it'd last til she'd finished with this column. She'd lost all feeling in her legs. Each step became wobblier. But, her limbs somehow held her up. 

Her vision declined so rapidly. The last column resembled a matchstick standing before a tunnel, silhouetted in bright light. She couldn't make out its markings, or feeling their outlines, her fingers had grown so numb. She rifles through her backpack inserting the amethyst stone into the right statue. 

Her knees begin to buckle. Kim stumbles against the column's last alcove. That was the only thing keeping her perpendicular. Vision shot. She rakes the column with her hand locating the statue. She desperately grabs the last jade stone shoving it inside the left statue's forehead, before hitting the stone floor, out cold. 

The wall opposite her location scrapes open. Precious needed oxygen rushes inside their current chamber. Fire light cast its aery glow. 

“KP,” Ron rushes over kneeling alongside his partner. He checks, her pulse was weak and breathing shallow. He removes his oxygen mask placing it around her mouth and nose. Several minutes pass. He stays by her side checking her pulse every so often.

Kim starts to come around. Groaning, head throbbing and every muscle aching. Her body screamed in pain, head to toe. Her eyes flutters open. A smile crosses her face. 

“KP,” Ron leans over brushing her lips with his, “I thought I'd lost you. What happened?” 

“My tank failed”. 

“We'll discuss this with Wade,” he resolves. “In great detail. Maybe he can prevent this from ever happening, again, while we're in the field”. 

“Ron, gather up those gems,” she caresses his hand affectionately. 

“Why?” 

“We'll need them inside the next chamber”. 

“KP...” He hesitates, not wishing to sound accusatory, “How do you know so much about this temple? How can you read its hieroglyphics? Or overcome these weird challenges so easily?” 

“I won't say easily. I did almost suffocate”. 

“You know what I meant, KP”. 

“Honestly, Ron, I don't know,” she sits up leading against the last column. “Ancient languages and cryptography have always been my passion, long before saving the world. Why do you think your old  
nemesis, Monkey Fist, duped us into recovering his last monkey idol?” 

Several more minutes pass in abated silence. Her vision clear and strength returns unto her lower limbs. She notices a plaque erected outside the last chamber's entrance. “See what I mean,” she points out and translates its inscription... 

“'There are four rival siblings, all born together. The 1st drinks everything in sight, but stays thirsty. The 2nd always runs, but never gets weary. The 3rd always eats, but never gets full. The last always sings, and can be heard in every tongue and language in every nation the world over”. 

“What the what?” 

“Ron,” she cherishes his decisiveness to stick with the mission, despite overwhelming confusion, “it commemorates our victories over the last four challenges: Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind”. 

Standing Amidst the Void

Kim extends her hands flashing an inviting smile. He grips her cupped hands pulling her back onto her feet. She removes her oxygen mask leading the way towards the next chamber. 

Ron relaxes, comforted, this passage wasn't as narrow or dark, as those earlier. He, however, was so busy watching his partner. He didn't realize they'd left the cave and started across a bridge stretching a over a deep ravine. 

Her recent brush with death served a useful purpose. It'd distracted him, or he'd be freaking out about now. Ron hated heights. 10-minutes. He shadows her every step, like a hawk. They'd no sooner crossed the bridge. An enormous stalagmite breaks loose overhead impacting the stone bridge. 

Ron hears the structure crumble, even felt the ground shuffle under his feet. He whips his head around realizing what'd just happened. 

Kim ignores his bug-eyes screaming, 'Did you know about this?” 

She lies, suppressing her own laughter, shaking her head, 'No'. The path ends opening unto the next room. Kim shoves this issue aside observing the pentagonal chamber. An two-tier square stage erected dead center and taking up most of the room. Twelve ivory steps led up and onto the platform. Kim and Ron ascend each step testing their structural integrity.

The duo quickly realize, this dais was a sub-platform. The ancients believed ascension should be one's ultimate goal. Hence, the architects erected the golden altar of ascension upon the higher dais. Ivory symbolized one's purity of heart. It seemed only befitting, three ivory steps conveys one unto true enlightenment. Four miniature incense altars crowned the sub-dais. 

Here, a worshiper or one seeking oneness with creation could be cleansed and their harmony with nature and all living things restored. The prayer altar represents the door unto enlightenment. Maybe that would explain temple architects erecting this particular altar to block one's ascension, at least til she'd achieve spiritual clarity for her spiritual journey. 

“What do we do now, KP?” Ron scratches his head. 

“Light the altars, Ron”. 

“Light them? How?”

“By putting the gemstones in place”. 

“Are you still oxygen deprived?” Ron scratches his head questioning her health. “There isn't any wood, coals, or...” He reaches for this hand...

“Ron, no,” she cries, only it was too late. 

Electricity passes over the altar's and up his arm. His body convulses violently as mounting surges coursed through every mortal fiber. His mind screamed, 'Release'. His hand simply wouldn't release, no matter how hard he willed himself. Mind so numbed by soaring pain. 

She uses her shield tackling her partner. Hand dislodged; the shock ceases immediately. Ron falls. She checks his vitals, realizing he's alive but out cold. Kim works counterclockwise setting up each altar's assigned jewels: 

Bloodstone and Blood Coral on the 1st incense altar (right to left). 

White Sapphire and Moonstone on the 2nd. 

Golden Topaz and Blue Sapphire on the 3rd. 

Opal and Apache Tear on the 4th.

The first eight gemstones were in place. And nothing. Kim reluctantly approaches the prayer altar. A dread comes over her being this close. Nerves shaky and stomach pitted. She approach the prayer altar placing the Turquoise on the right, and Black Garnet on the left. She steps back and kneels. Head bowed and eyes closed. 

Their fires quenched so long ago. Who know when? The four incense altars came alive. Sacred fires ignited inside each without human intervention. A stream of liquid lava poured down each altar's side trailing along the main dais towards and meet simultaneously at both sides of the prayer altar. Sacred fire ignites inside the prayer altar, too. 

Thick incense began to cover the chamber's interior. Kim rises up, claps her hand thrice, and recites the prophecy, “A cloud is my mother, the wind my father, the cool stream my brother, and fruit of the earth my daughter. The rainbow is my only bed, and the earth my final resting place. This is the cycle of life. Here and beyond”. 

The prayer altar splits down the middle. Each side slides apart revealing a walkway. Kim ascends the last leg of her journey with some trepidation. Her mission, recover this artifact of immeasurable power. She'd began to question her superior's prophetical interpretation, even their true motivation why they sought this weapon. She reaches the top placing the Amethyst right and Jade left. The sacred fires creep their way up setting each step ablaze, til reaching her point. 

Both lava trails circle her personage, join again 2-cm ahead her feet, and continue towards but stops short the main altar. Kim slaps her own forehead. How could she be so stupid. She opens her backpack removing and placing the fire-plant's heart upon the altar. The strand of fire trail up the altar. Sacred fires ignite inside the enlightenment altar, too. 

Meeting In The Ether

The heart still hadn't lost its luster. The altar's flames only heated it more. Brilliant shafts of light shoot in every direction. All colors merge into one lipid aura shielding the main dais. A 5'5” (or 165.1-cm) with flaming red hair and weighing around 110-115 lbs (49.90-52.16-kg) appears before her with arms open wide. 

Kim backs away, terrified but reminiscent. Just her visage triggers good and bad memories. One specifically, she'd never told anyone. Her parents. Brothers. Ron. Wade. No one. Her baby. 

The entity reaches inside the altar removing a burning coal. Her hand didn't burn, nor did she cry in pain. In fact, the lump of coal burned brighter than ever. A force reaches out immobilizing her whole body. Aconasema touches the coal against her lips. Her instincts and every fiber of her being said, “Cry in pain'. She didn't, so shocked, she could hear and understand her. Again. After so long. 

“Aconasema?” 

“She's my daughter, and resides within you. My name's Phonecia, Phoenix Goddess. I, however, am not what's important. You are. Trust me, Little One, the transformation has already started...” 

“Transformation? What transformation?”

“Many have venture inside my temples over the eons. Most perished over their selfish ambitions, seeking power, fame, wealth; the list is endless. Point is, they had ulterior motives. You, however, are the first  
warrior in over a millennia, whose heart has proven pure enough to pass my sacred trials, and inversely proving, you alone are worthy to wielding my power. Trust me, when I say, your life will never be the same again. My daughter's essence is already growing inside you”. 

“Daughter's essence?” Her alien hostess simply smiles. “The armor”. 

“Partly, Young One,” the presence perceives her confusion, “That armor's only a symbol. Reflect over the last five challenges. Each tested your core character, proving who you really are, even during the worst of times. You are born of water, quickened by the four winds, nourished by the fruits of the ground, and edified by the immeasurable wisdom of the ancients as foretold in nature and the cosmos. You're no longer human, but a goddess among men. You'll learn what that truly means, very shortly”. 

“Please forgive my ignorance,” Kim beseeches her hostess' patience. “I'm an international agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. sent here to obtain a WMD, which could plunge my world into world war, possible worse, total annihilation. I've been commissioned to retrieve a weapon of mass destruction. It cannot fall into the wrong hands”. 

“Relax, My Dear, your heart is pure, and words true. I already know why you're here, Kim Possible of Earth. Don't worry, your mission is honorable. Else you'd never reached this far. I saw how you protected your mate, and you're right, this weapon cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. And I know you won't let that happen”. 

“Great,” Kim relaxes, having built some rapport, or so she thought, asking, “Where's it hid?” 

“My Dear,” Phonecia grasps her hands lightly, “you are that weapon. And it has become your sole responsibility to keep yourself from enemy hands, or they can use you in doing great harm, maybe even destroying your world along with countless other worlds, and dimensions. I'm only an apparition of the essence now residing inside you. I've fulfilled my purpose, and can rest, til needed again. Your car and spaceship are being updated beyond 'modern' tech”. 

“How can I contact you again, should I have questions on how to use some of this equipment?” 

“Reach inside yourself,” she states placidly, “Aconasema is always ready to help. And besides, it won't be necessary. You already know about our tech. I've watched you, since my daughter spared your life so many years ago”. 

“Ah, man,” Kim knew exactly what she meant, “that means you registered my presence 7 years ago, when I stumbled inside and took refuge from my pursuers, didn't you?” 

“I did,” the entity admits. “You came into the Earth chamber, priming the temple, only to leave”. 

“I was only sixteen, and being pursued by some very unsavory characters. Anyway, I never told anyone about this place”. 

“I know”. 

“Well, did you know? I've had recurring dreams about this place since that day. Those very dreams helped me traverse this place and survive its many challenges”. 

“I must confess,” the apparition reveals, “I scanned your brainwaves and unique bio-metrics, and have been periodically implanting engrams about my people and technology into your mind, which may be what triggered your dreams, and also why I say, you won't need any training on using this new tech. Just keep this power safe. I sense your concern, and we've already made all the necessary preparations to protect your family and friends. 

Your genetics are already being rewritten; so much so, not even this DNAmy, you worry so much about, will be able to link your future self with your past. Alaina will reveal your parentage, when the time's appropriate. Go, you must leave now. Your enemies have breached this temple. They're already inside the Fire Chamber”. The apparition flutters her hands. A bright light washes over them. And the next thing she knew. Kim and Ron were back aboard their flying saucer. 

“Alaina, get us out of here. Quickly,” Kim orders, strapping still unconscious Ron and herself into the nearest chairs. 

She debated her alien hostess' startling revelations. A part of her doubted it'd ever really happened, til she realized. They weren't alone. Neither was this Alaina. Sure, it resembled their saucer. Kim knew it wasn't. She'd inspected every square inch and worked with its major systems. 

Alaina began a sharp ascent. Takeoff went smooth than it should have, given they're surrounded by enemies. Only, they didn't seem to detect their takeoff or presence. This realization ignites an internal debate. How exactly was Annie being updated? And by who? She couldn't shake the feeling. Major troubled lay ahead them. And it'd turn their lives upside down when it hits, like a tsunami. 


	4. Rumble In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron's hurt. And their enemies are watching them closer than ever, but under stealth. Her eyes can't see them, or ears detect their presence. Her own danger sense is going off the charts. She resolves, she can't in good conscious pass along the real scroll. Kim passes along a fake scroll. SHIELD doesn't initially see through her ploy, but their enemies do. in fact, Hydra amasses its forces attacking Team Possible homes, individually. Their actions force Kim into another moral dilemma. How far will she go to protect those she loves most? Does that include taking human life?

Getting Home's Only Part Of The Journey

She could've stopped by the nearest military base, private/public hospital, local clinics, any number of places to get her partner's medical treatment. She didn't, though. Even she wasn't sure why, except. Something told her stop, and they're both dead. She heads straight for MMC landing Alaina, disguised as a Black Hawk atop the medevac helipad. 

She called ahead apprising her mom about Ron's condition, even warning her, she'd best have good security waiting. Dangerous men were in hot pursuit. Dr. Anne Possible met them with a gurney and nurse. Kim disembarks the chopper carrying her partner. She lays him atop the gurney. 

Dr. Possible nods, smiling but marveling, too. Her daughter flew this helicopter. She didn't know she could. Dr. Possible shoves aside this debate, grabs her latest patient, and rushes into the ER. She wasn't so busy she didn't notice her daughter acting uncharacteristically apprehensive. Anne Possible didn't notice any outward, physical injuries, and relegates her being worried over her boyfriend. 

Kim's acting skills had improved dramatically during her years as a spy. She wasn't squeamish, but only needed a justifiable reason to leave Ron's side, without their families looking down upon her, or finding out what she's really doing. It was 'eyes-only' level top secret. 

She ventures into the hospital's northern wing. S.H.I.E.L.D. arranged a surprise safety inspection. Of course, the inspector uncovered grievous code violations: structural and electrical. The board even debated closing the hospital altogether. A federal grant settled that issue covering the cost of bringing the hospital back up to code. 

Constructions crews came in 6:00 a.m. and worked til dark, over the last week. Renovations were well underway. The workers knocked off for lunch everyday around this time, like clockwork, eating out front under the covered patio. This area remained relatively deserted til 12:45-1:00 p.m., when they return unto their regular shifts. 

Kim enters the nearest ladies room hanging an 'out-of-order' sign on the doorknob. 

Black Widow, her S.H.I.E.L.D. contact, was already waiting inside the lavatory. 

Kim sums up what'd occurred inside the temple, minus the part about her being these scroll's long prophesied WMD, giving her the first scroll. She knew, peoples' own greed would keep them chasing these scrolls, but would never locate the true weapon, her. 

Kim exits the lavatory discarding the sign. She ventures back into the ER 10-minutes later feeling much better and wearing an amiable smile. 

Dr. Possible had just completed Ron's preliminary examination. She'd need his blood work before proceeding any farther, unless an emergency arose. She didn't detect any major head trauma, hairline fractures, broken bones, internal bleeding/hemorrhaging, or any major organ or tissue damage, as is so common with electrocution victims. 

Kim sets with him several hours, not leaving his side. His blood work finally arrives, confirming what Dr. Possible suspected all along. He'd be fine, but fatigued and extremely sore over the next couple of days. Dr. Possible discharges him with a clean bill of health. 

Alaina returned unto MSC per her operational directives. Annie, Kim's Roth SL Coupe, was there and waiting when discharged. 

Kim left MMC parking lot driving slow and easy. Eyes shifting, straight ahead, rearview, and side mirrors. She didn't see anything or anyone suspicion, but couldn't shake the feeling. She and Ron were being closely shadowed by someone under stealth. 

Kim drove straight to Ron's house without any stops in-between. She pulled along his curb throwing the card into park. She gets out and walks around the car. Annie auto-unlocks his seat belt and opens the front passenger door. Kim gathers her partner/boyfriend in her arms carrying him up the walk.

His mom greets her at the door, “What happened?” 

“He was slightly electrocuted, but relax. My mom check him over, even did blood work. He'll be fine over the next couple of days,” she carries him past, heads up stairs, barges into his room, and lays him on his own mattress covering him up, before heading home herself. 

She, too, was tired, exhausted even. Senses sharper than ever. She knew she'd best not slumber, or her family and everyone she knew would be dead within a few short hours. Kim spent her day crawling through the tweebs' subterranean caverns upgrading their perimeter defenses. Her task gets done around 6:15, that night. Kim lays down to catch a few winks. 

Her mother came home around 8:00 p.m. She eased her way into the loft, checked on but let her little girl sleep, sensing her exhaustion. 

Twilight's Troubles

Kim awoke around midnight. Luckily, her parents and brothers were long asleep. She wouldn't haft to play 20-questions. Kim huddles inside her bedroom debating what Phonecia had said and something else she never dreamt possible, taking a human life. 

Here she was. Back propped against her bed. Eye locked upon her security monitors. Two modified Saigas 12K semi-auto shotguns laid across her lap. Bock cocked and loaded with 30-round drums. She glances over. Her clock flashes 2:24 a.m., before she knew it. The very air around her crepitated with sharp tension. Her apprehension only escalate when every nocturnal creature grows morbidly silent, all at the very same time. 

Kim grabs her Saigas double-checking both shotguns. She didn't dare bring her secret defenses online yet. No doubt, her enemies had acquired their home defense schematics. Her little brothers had started to notice the fairer sex. Neither was very athletic, but flexed their mental muscles, even spilling their guts, anytime a pretty girl showed either a little attention. 

And they'd surely gotten more than enough attention lately. She'd overhead them boasting with her dad about recent conquests, even secretly monitored a couple of their dates. That told her, whatever was going down, this'd been in the works for quite some time. 

She creeps over and peers above her window, overlooking the front lawn, spotting sixty or more masked assailants dressed in black, wearing night vision gear, and carrying the latest assault rifles. No doubt, with armor piercing rounds, or worse. 

She scurries across the loft on her hands and kneels down peering out the opposite window, overlooking the back yard. She spots nearly as many assailants clad in black and carrying assault rifles. She knew, it was now or never. She triple taps her kimmunicator activating her secret weapons. 

Outside. Forty metalstorm guns come online in the front, and forty in the back. Each camouflaged black and green effortlessly blending with the home's plush landscape. The metalstorm was a square-shaped gun sporting 36-barrels, each, capable of firing at 16,000-RPM. She quietly descends her loft ladder crawling down the hall stopping adjacent her parent's bedroom. She peers around the corner, adjacent the 2nd story stair banister. 

Three masked men bypassed their home security making their way inside. Kim inhales deeply to steady her nerves before activating every gun module. All metalstorm units come alive targeting locked through specially calibrated heat and motion senors lining the perimeter. 9-mm AP rounds assail them from all sides without warning. Each round rips through their vests with such ease. Over 120 assailants lay dead sprawled over the front, back, and side lawns, in a matter of seconds, not minutes or hours. 

Those inside sense something awry. All turn this way and that. Their eyes palpate with terror, and heart sink deeper into despair. Fresh human blood coated the home's siding oozing down every lower window. A lone assailant survives long enough stumbling against the patio door. His pals freaks out and spin around firing on full-auto. Various caliber rounds shatter the patio's glass door aerating his body worse, and wasn't letting up any time soon. 

Kim sieges on their panic. She leaps over the top banister. Saiga 12-Ks cocked and loaded, opening fire even before her feet touch the floor. Both barrels spew 12-gauge rounds thundering like a mighty cannon over the lower structure and into the upper floor. 

An assailant takes three shots directly in the chest. His vest couldn't stop the onslaught. In fact, it barely holds the body intact. The 2nd and 3rd rounds easily eviscerates him. Internals scattered over the living room. A second assailant get his left arm blown off. He collapses, rolling back and forth on the floor, wailing in excruciating agony. 

A Rumble In the Night 

Anne Possible shot up in bed. Eyes wide open and ears piqued. Sure she'd heard something but unsure what. She recalled years back, her ears played similar tricks on her, when she'd hear bumps in the night, sure the kids were up and into some mischief, only to find them still fast asleep in their beds. All doubts vanish, upon hearing six thunderous gunshots echoing downstairs. One after another. 

Each so loud and timed so closely together. James stirred, sitting straight up in bed, stretching his arms and yawning something fierce. Several more gunshots even snaps him out his slumber. James whips his head around sharing his wife's mutually worried expression. 

“Gunshots, James,” his wife jumps up and heads outside their bedroom. James hot on her heels. Tim and Jim stick their heads outside their bedroom, but not too far. 

“You kids, get back inside your bedroom,” Anne orders them. 

Both hesitate, glaring at their old man. “Now!” James snap, barely above a whisper, pointing them back inside their bedroom, too. 

The twin terrors scuttle back inside; knowing, they'd never win this match. Dad had mom's support on this decision. 

James and Anne Possible sneak down the hall peering around the farthest corner. Both witness their daughter drop the last visible assailant, leaving little behind. 

James turns, stomach nauseated, over watching a 12-gauge dragon shell rip and grown man apart.

Anne, though, takes special notice. Kim takes off running. Three more assailants charge into the dining room from the kitchen. She dives, spiraling over the living room sofa, getting off several more rounds. Those same assailants go down. Blood and internals plastered over the kitchen and dining room ceiling, walls, floors, and furniture.

And yet, more pour inside their home. They simply step over their fallen companions advancing into the living room. Every assailant fired on full auto concentrated their firepower on Kim position. 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm rounds trail towards masticating the sofa. 

Kim reaches into her security belt tossing four metallic orbs amidst her enemies. Automatic shots continue to shred the last barrier between her and certain death.

“Grenades,” a heavy European accent yells. All shots cease and assailants scatter in every direction, seeking cover wherever possible. 

James and Anne do the same covering their heads. 4, 6, 10...20 seconds. Nothing. Both deduce, the ordnances must be duds, as did those below. Seeing them smoke instills them with false security, even making them more brazen, over how easily she'd played them for chumps. 

What they didn't realize, her parents included. These grenades weren't duds. Each spewed black smoke infused with metallic RFID tags. 

Every assailant resumed his/her attack posture. Automatic 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm rounds steadily chipped away the sofa. 

Kim tosses six more grenades their way. Her enemies do as expected, ignores the threat esteeming them more duds, but, just in case, they move closer together for a more defensible position. Positive, she was pulling something, only unsure what. What they or her parents realized, these weren't duds, either. These spewed nano-explosives, locked onto and syncs with a specific RFID tag, and attaches onto that assailant's armor. 

Kim produces their remote detonator. She laughs maniacally stroking its big red button bidding them, “See you in hell!” She presses the button triggering every nano-tick simultaneously. Good thing, she'd scaled down their yield, or she'd leveled the whole house. 

As is, rippling explosions blows apart the remaining enemies inside. A fiery miasma scorched the dining room ceiling punching a hole into burying shrapnel in every wall roundabout still intact, even blowing the front door slam off its hinges, and shattering every window. The same blast picks her up slamming her hard against the far wall. 

Her terrified parents felt the whole house shift beneath them. Both peek around the corner, half-expecting to see their daughter dead, blown to pieces, but observe her slide down a far wall and plop hard against the floor. Both notice her body covered in deep lacerations, even 2nd and 3rd degree burns, only to witness them all heal immediately right before their eyes. 

Kim discards her empty drums slapping more inside their chambers. She cocks both Saiga 12-Ks, leaps back onto her feet, and charge outside without even an apology or explanation. The couple get doubly worried hearing her jet pack scream to life. Thrusters firing beyond safety limits; which assured them, whatever was going down, this night wasn't over just yet. 

On Phoenix Wings

Light came on all over the neighborhood. Neighbors panic, hearing automatic gunfire followed by closely by enormous explosions and horrendous screams. 911 dispatch gets inundated with frantic calls. Kim jet pack shrieking high above didn't ease their nerves. 

Black plums spewed out the exhaust. Safety gauges registered past red. Alarms blared even louder warning an imminent explosion in progress. Kim still didn't slow. 

* 

Fighting over. And family safe. James and Anne Possible ease downstairs. Jim and Tim watch from the safety of their own bedroom. 

James grabs a golf club checking each assailant. 

A mother first, Anne checks over by the sofa. “Oh, Dear God,” she covers her mouth fighting back the tears. 

“James, kids, let's hurry”. 

“What's wrong, Dear?” 

“Kimmie's been shot,” she presents a bloody piece of their sofa's torn upholstery. 

“Boys, let's go,” Jams calls more authoritative than ever. The twin-terrors descended the stairs by leaps and bounds. James, Anne, Tim, and Jim take off on foot, realizing. Their attackers slashed their tires,  
probably to minimize their chances of escape, if something went wrong. 

* 

“Wade,” she alerts their systems tech, while mid-flight. 

“Yea, Kim?” He answers his computers groggily rubbing his eyes. 

“Old buddy, enact Alpha-Alpha-3. Team Possible's going dark”.

“What happened?” 

“I just neutralized 120 armed assailants dressed in black fatigues and carrying assault/laser rifles. I've been shot several times. More hostiles are headed towards Ron's house, possibly yours, too. Hope I survive, where we can discuss my actions and maybe save our team,” she kills the connection. 

Wade stares bedeviled at the blank screen. For a full second or two. A part of him debated what could've driven her to murder. Still, the sensible part shelves this debate for a later date. He rushes into his parent's room waking them. Everyone left with the clothes on their backs. 

* 

It usually took 10 minutes to reach Ron's house. Kim crosses the void in under 2-1/2-minutes. She discovers more black clad assailants storming his front and back doors. Most set up perimeter around the home. A few had already made their way inside. She could only hope, they didn't know about her surviving yet. Kim quad taps her kimmunicator remote activating their defenses. 

Forty metalstorms protrude out their lawn, front and back, again camouflaged with it landscape. No one hear anything or even suspected this ambush. All eighty units lock onto their targets through the same special calibrated heat and motion sensors. 9-mm rounds shred their ranks leaves no one alive and standing in under twenty seconds. Over sixty lay dead in the front and sixty in the back. 

The true beauty, those inside never heard a thing. 

*

Middleton PD arrived at the Possibles within 10-minutes. First responders discovered the house empty. Mutilated bodies littering the front and back yards. Every window shattered. Front door blown off its hinges. Grenade fragments and body parts strewed over the interior. Vehicles left behind. Tires slashed. But, otherwise left intact. 

Officer Hobbles jumped into his cruiser. The Stoppables might know what'd transpired here tonight. Besides being a long shot at best, it'd take EOD nearly two hours or more to clear the scene. CIS would  
have to comb for particulates, afterwards. That could take all night and maybe part of tomorrow, just judging by the level of carnage here. 

He backs out the driveway, throws his cruiser into drive, and speed off towards the Stoppables. His sirens blared wide open and flashers pasting the neighborhood in red and blue. He gets two blocks away spotting the Possible running down the road in their night clothes. Mother, Father, and both sons, pouring sweat but refusing to slow. 

Kim Possible, their adventurous, globe-trotting daughter, wasn't with them. That fact, coupled with their home being a literal battlefield, turned his stomach and spelt certain trouble, for everyone. Officer Hobble pulls over by the curb and rolls down the front passenger window, about to ask them a few simple questions. 

Wing And Prayer

Anne reaches inside and unlocks the cruiser. She yanks open the passenger door and slides over; her husband beside her. The boys climb into their parents' laps. Both refused to ride in the back, like some perp. 

“What's the meaning of all this, Mrs. Possible?” Hobbles removes his hat scratching his head with deep confusion. 

Anne relays the story so fast. He could barely make out, “Kim. Masked men. Big guns. Dead bodies. Stoppable's residence”. 

“Very well,” he cedes, calling in SWAT. Hobble throws his car into drive peeling rubber with sirens blaring. His cruiser screeched around the 3rd block. Still four minutes away from the Stoppables. 

James and Anne Possible spots their daughter over the horizon circling the Stoppables. Jet pack palpating and engine spewing oily black smoke. Worse than ever. 

“My word,” Officer Hobbles exclaims, weaving his way through traffic. Even he noticed the heavy assault rifles in her hands. He mashes the gas heading the rest of the way. Code #1. No sirens. 

* 

Kim abruptly dives below their line of view. Every assailant inside Ron's house stops hearing her engine's piercing whine seemingly emanating everywhere at once. Their heads pivot and eyes dart to and for. And yet, they see nothing, but knew, whatever it was, it was getting closer. 

Infrared scans easily pinpoints twelve armed assailants already inside Ron's house. Her plan must be timed precisely, or this rescue could backfire fast. Her baby girl could end up dead. Kim angles her descent parallel with he living room's large Victorian window. She launches several decoy buoys as distractions. Each programmed to shatter different windows throughout the lower level in sync. She only payed she could disarms these intruders in time. 

Kim times her approach. 30-seconds til impact. She activates her helmet and face shield launching her decoy rockets. counting down. The front door opened unto L-shaped stairs leading upstairs, where Ron, Hanna, and their parents slept. Two assailants started up the stairs. Another stayed below guarding their six. The seconds only seem to blur. 

Kim sets her engines to overload. Her jet pack screams louder than ever. Its whine emanating from everywhere at once. Muscles tense and nerves on edge. Her decoy rockets crash every window in sync. Every assailant suspect a joint assault targeting anything that moved. Their heads turn every which way. Eyes darting back and forth faster than ever. The rockets' tiny engines sputter several more time. Each assailant panics worse spraying more ammo throughout the lower level. 

Automatic 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm rounds masticate everything in sight. Kim crashes through the double-glass window amidst their confusion. She lands, sliding upon her knees across a freshly waxed floor. Saiga 12-Ks clutched between her fingers, and spewing 12-gauges of fiery fury. She drops three assailants nearest the staircase, even two near the kitchen, and one by the patio door. 

The element of surprise was over. Every assailant still alive turn their own fury upon her. 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm shots zip past her various parts of her anatomy. She takes down three more, leaving little but pieces. Even so, her enemies weren't cowards. Those left alive step over their fallen, like those back at her house, upping their assault. 

A 5.56-mm slug lodges in her right shoulder, a 7.62-mm in her right thigh. She takes cover injecting herself with pure adrenaline, feeling no pain. Eyes crystallized. Veins bulging as her heart pumps much needed blood and oxygen, necessary for all this exertion. 

Those left alive lose sight of their target congregating in the living room. Kim scatters six grenades. Everyone scrambles in different directions seeking cover wherever possible. More than a few notice the grenades smoking realizing they'd been had. The grenades were only duds. 

Kim was ready and waiting. 

Three pop heir heads up. She quickly decapitates them single shots. Never blinking twice. 

The survivors grow indignant over their comrades' senseless murders. Their leader signals those left under his authority. 

“1...” The enemy's team leader starts counting. 

Kim runs back into the dining room. 

“2”. 

She dives into the air. 

“3”. 

She grabs and overturns the antique reinforced oak table. The remaining assailants stand up opening fire on full auto. 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm AP rounds masticate their table's top. Her shields stop the ones penetrating its wooden exterior. 

A normal person would be cowering in fear. Only, she had an ace up her sleeve. And they didn't even realize their impending doom. Kim retrieves her detonator howling with maniacal laughter. Each assailant had nano-tick explosives attached all over their bodies. Her finger hovered above the trigger. She laughs more maniacal bidding them, “See you in hell”. 

Whether they knew or not, every assailant hears her proclamation accompanied by something else beeping. Explosives was the first thought registering in their minds. All scatter like rats in the opposite direction. She couldn't get them all. At once. None realize the explosives were attached onto various parts of his/her own body. 

Officer Hobble pulls alongside the Stoppable's curb. He hears someone yelling very distinctly...

“Go to hell, bitch”. 

“You first,” Kim screams back, bursting into even more maniacal laughter than ever. 

Her opponents didn't bother debating her intentions. All bolt out the nearest exits. Some even make their own. All wanting to get as much distance between them and this crazy bitch as possible. 

Hobble spots three armed assailants exiting the front, “Freeze...” He takes off running spotting their assault rifles. He dives over his patrol car, as 5.56-mm and 7.62-mm automatic rounds trail towards grilling the driver side of his cruiser. 

Each assailant bolts up the road. 

For The Love Of Family

“Get back, and stay down,” Officer Hobbles advises the civilians on scene. 

“Dispatch,” he radios the station, “please be advised. Full gang riot in progress. Requesting every available unit, along with emergency, fire, SWAT and bomb”. 

“Say again, Car-12,” he eases closer to the porch. The majority of assailants gone. 

A 12-gauge shot misses his head by inches. Office Hobbles takes off running. More 12-gauge shots drilled the lawn closing upon his heels. He dives over his cruiser. A shot shatters the back passenger side window, even boring several more holes in his driver and passenger doors. 

Officer Hobble opens his front passenger side door grabbing his radio, “Man, it's all out war here. Get me SWAT, emergency, fire, and...” He no sooner mention the bomb squad.

Kim realized, they may run now but would always come back later. An example must be set. She waits til those in the back yard get halfway across to the back fence. She presses her detonator's switch triggering the explosives. Enormous explosions erupt roundabout the Stoppables' home. 

Several getaway vehicles within a block and half radius blow up without warning scattering debris and body parts everywhere. Assailants on foot stop dead in their tracks. Their ears detect the piercing beep. All knew what that meant. Muscles tense up. Each searches for any explosives attached onto their bodies. Fiery balls of black smoke rise up all over the neighborhood mirroring the one out back. 

“Just do it,” Hobbles shouts, discarding his radio. 

He crawls across the front lawn, up the front steps, and over peering inside the shattered living room window. “You there, freeze,” he spots suspicious movements by the stairs edge leading into the kitchen.  
He simply couldn't make out who moved. 

A 12-gauge round breaches the exterior coming closer unto his head. He stumbles back, flips over the porch rail, and lands face first in the mud, next to an assailant's masticated remains.

Kim zips over planting her back against the front door. “Stay back,” she shouts in Japanese, “come any closer and you all die”. 

*

Upstairs. The Stoppables crouched low inside the master bedroom. Ron sneaks over peering above the windowsill overlooking the front yard. He recognizes the Possibles—all four—pinned down, and the gunman's voice shouting her demands. 

“Kim,” he whispers, and starts towards his parents' door. 

“Boy, are you crazy? There's a madman downstairs”. 

“Not a madman, Dad,” he corrects his father. “A madwoman”. 

“What do you mean, Ronnie?” 

“I don't know...exactly, Mom. Whatever transpired tonight? Kim saved us. And she must be hurt. That's her downstairs. She's the madwoman...threatening not just the police but her own parents and little brothers in Japanese. She'll kill them, or them, her; unless I can reach her...somehow”. 

“My God, Son,” his father wrestles with the implications. 

“Are you sure, Ronald?” 

“It's her downstairs, Dad. I'm sure”. 

“Stay here, Hanna. And watch over Mom and Dad”. 

“I will, brother. Count on it,” the six year old pledges.

Death Glance

Ron eases downstairs. He barely takes two steps. Kim whips around firing two warning shots. Both shells obliterates the step beneath his feet. She warns him in Japanese, “Back down towards me very slowly, with your hands held high, or you die”. 

Hanna understood what she'd said. She felt, Kim would kill her brother as soon as he reached the bottom step, whether or not he complied. 

Hanna bolts out her parents' room, leaps over the banister, and land in front her brother conciliating, “The greatest love is a mother's. When she's around, she holds the family together, but when she dies, the family tend to scatter. That's why they say, a father's love may scale the highest mountain, but cannot exceed a mother's, reaching into the utmost depths of the mightiest oceans”. 

“Baby,” tears stream down the redhead's face, “I thought you were dead, or those bastards had done something unspeakable unto you”. She races up the stairs hugging her tightly. Simply doing that much depletes her remaining strength. She tosses aside her Saigas, drops to one knee, and smiles tearfully, caressing her little girl's hair, before losing consciousness and tumbling downstairs. 

Hanna rushes over and unlocks the front door. She sticks her head out yelling, “Mrs. Dr. P, you'd better get in here. Kimmie's hurt badly and needs you. She's been shot several times”. 

“Oh, Dear God,” Anne Possible barely got out behind the tears. She grabs her medical bag rushing inside the Stoppables' home. Her daughter lay unconscious below the stairs. 

“How bad is she, Mrs. Possible?” 

“Critical, Officer Hobble,” she tears up. “She's sustained two GSWs in her right shoulder and one in her left thigh. Her vest and battle suit absorbed several more protecting vital organs. She's sustained a 7.62-mm wound in the lower left quadrant of her abdomen. I pray it missed or at the least only nicked her small intestines. What really worries me, the 5.56-mm slug wedged against her parietal lobe, which governs her sensory perception, and can sometimes affect eyesight and language processing, among other bodily functions”. 

“What the hell happened here, Ronald?” 

“I can't answer that, Officer Hobble”. 

“And why not?” 

“It's classified...”

“Classified,” the older police officer scoffs sharply. “Don't give me that crap! Your girlfriend turned a peaceful neighborhood into her own private battlefield murdering at least 100 people”. 

“I can't comment on her actions, Officer Hobble. I can only say...” His explanation was cut short by the whine of familiar turbines. He can't say he wasn't glad this time. He didn't wish to alienate an old friend of the family. 

“Now they arrive...” Jim rolls his eyes. 

“...after all the trouble's over with”. His brother shares his contempt. 

Cock of the Walk

Betty Director disembarks her G.J. transport surveying the carnage, like back at the Possibles. She agreed, violence was necessary sometimes, but never on this level. She schleps into the living room through the opened door demanding, “Stoppable, what the hell happened here? I have everyone from Mayor Kyle Jameson, to Governor Maxine Wilcox, to the Secretary General of the United Nations, Wilber Cosgrove screaming for answers, about why my agent went rogue waging her own personal war and wrecking on American soil and entire neighborhood?” 

“Rogue?” Dean Stoppable takes exception with her accusation. “She saved our lives”. 

Mrs. Stoppable verifies her husband's testimony adding, “The only militants here are those...” 

“Says who? You two?” Betty Director rolls her good eyes. Not swayed by such sentimentality, only cold, hard facts. “Isn't that convenient? They're dead, and can't defend themselves,” she eyes them, “or disprove,” she eyes the dead again, “your version of events here tonight”. 

“Would you rather we be dead, Young Lady?” 

Dr. Director cuts her eyes sharply. 

“Now, James,” Anne Possible mediates the situation, “let's don't rile her unnecessarily. She's always been our friend in the past. I'm sure, she's only doing her job now. There must be a reason behind this line of questions, isn't there, Director?” 

“As always, Anne”. 

“What happened here, Stoppable?” 

“Well, these masked guys surrounded my house about to storm inside. Kim cut most down within a few seconds. How? I don't know. A few survived long enough to get inside. Kim jetted through our living room window, over there. She...” 

“...came in with guns blazing, no doubt?” Will Du seizes another opportunity to smear the amateur's rep a little more. 

“They fired the first shot, you dope”. 

“Hanna,” her mother reproves sharply. 

Hanna refused to keep her mouth shut championing, “You're acting like Kim's the criminal, when we all know that patch-eyed bitch's brother's sent these people”. 

“How do you know that young lady?” Dr. Director holds up her right hand gesturing the mother's silence, and let the little girl finish what she'd started. 

“Easy, Director,” she wasn't the least bit intimidated. “I opened my eyes. Open yours, even if you only have one, you might notice their WEE uniforms with Greek letters. Gemini's brand, Lady. Plus, I used logic, something, you apparently can't do. The Walkers, our neighbors to the right, own a spotted black and white Labrador Retriever. The Lopezs, our neighbors to the left, foster a grayish-brown German Shepherd. The Muellers, the house right behind ours, have mottled grayish-brownish-blackish Yorkshire Terrier and a jet black Rottweiler with a patch-eye, like yours. 

All four dogs are notorious barkers, but worse when strangers lurk about. Something shut them up tonight. And I don't mean over time. They shut up about the same time. That was my first inkling something was amiss here. Check with them and you'll discover. These idiots either sedated or poisoned those poor dogs. Just so they couldn't alert their owners, and the owners, you guys, til this was over . That proves Kim isn't the criminal here. Your brother is, and you, too, over protecting him this long, Lady”. 

“Commander, put the Possible and Stoppable under...”

Mama Hen

“That won't be necessary, Director Director”. 

“Thanks for the heads up, Little Lady,” Black Widow high fives Hanna. 

“No problem. Global Justice has proven itself inept, one time too many, lately. I figured, Kimmie could use a real ally,...preferably one with a spine and more brains”. 

“Who're you?” Will Du snaps, eyeing the sassy little girl with the potty mouth. 

“Commander Du, meet Director Nick Fury...” 

“...of S.H.I.E.L.D?” Dr. Director cuts her eyes sharply. Du suddenly regretted mentioning that rival organization's name, reminiscent of mentioning Global Justice around her brother's 'rat dog,' PePe. 

“What business do you have with my agent, Fury?” Dr. Direct stresses her agency's jurisdiction over this case. 

“She isn't yours anymore, Dr. Director”. 

Hanna laughs aloud, amused by Dr. Director's disheveled expression. 

“What are you babbling about, Fury?” Dr. Director eyes the boisterous little girl. 

“Me babble? Never”. He took great pleasure in revealing, “Her G.J. provisional status ended over two weeks ago. And your agency never reinstated her commission. I'd monitored her career over the years, and offered her a job, four days ago”. 

James struggles with believing this, “My Kimmie-Cub works for S.H.I.E.L.D?” 

“How else could she access Sabertooth? Even Dr. Director herself lacks the necessary security clearance. I granted your daughter Level-8 Omega-Red Clearance, the highest ever granted to someone so young, though her experience level did help”. 

“Even S.H.I.E.L.D. must uphold its charter and host nation's laws. Agent Possible was carrying two specifically modified military grade Saiga 12-K semi-automatic shotguns. They're illegal...” Will Du starts to quote G.J. regulations, only to have S.H.I.E.L.D. regulations quoted right back. 

“Illegal for you, Commander. Not us”. Fury discerns their confusion clarifying, “Global Justice is a 'civil-based' U.N. Law Enforcement Agency; whereas, S.H.I.E.L.D. is a 'military-based' operation. Hence, you handle thieves, mercenaries, serial killers, mad scientists, even rogue golfers,” he chuckles over that one, “any criminal deemed a nu security threats or below. S.H.I.E.L.D. pursues the rest, including mutants, super powered master criminals, even global dictators. That's why we're afforded more latitude in what weapons our agents carry”. 

“Always have an answer, don't you, Fury” Dr. Director huffs. “S.H.I.E.L.D. must be superior...” 

She'd tried to be civil. That wasn't working. “You two,” Dr. Anne Possible accosts them both, “zip it! Now! This bickering stops around her, understand? If you can't get along, go outside and finish your cockfight there. My daughter may be out, but still senses the mounting tensions. It's upsetting her, and she's injured bad enough without the added stress! Out, now!” She points them towards the door. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents stood roundabout the home. Ears piqued and mouths agape. They'd never heard anyone speak so disparagingly unto their bosses. And yet, whoever this doctor was, she did so without fear. This enigma takes on new perplexities upon hearing...

“Forgive my tactlessness, Mr. and Mrs. Possible,” Fury apologizes, hearing ambulance and police sirens. “Black Window will accompany your daughter unto the hospital”. 

“We thank you, and Global Justice, for your help,” the mature redhead feigns, but could care less about their feud. No doubt, wrapping in layers of bureaucratic red tape.


	5. Regrouping and Appropriate Responses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron recovers, only to discover his partner's injured. Hydra and its partners regroup planning how they can recover their stolen scroll. SHIELD's equally frustrated. Kim turned over a fake scroll. Fury's confident she did this on purpose. 
> 
> Kim, in the meantime, secretly recovers from her injuries, but places an injured clone in her place. She assumes dual identities--Scarlett Flame and Dragon Phoenix.

History Reborn

Hydra, at one time, was the world foremost leading terror organization. Nothing happened without permission from its founder, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, who served under Hitler inside the S. S. He suffered so many defeats at Sergeant Nick Fury's hands. His Fuhrer ordered him to destroy and burn a small French village. An order, he refused. 

Adolf Hitler ordered his arrest and execution. Strucker fled, and escaped with a temporary ally, Red Skull, who requested Strucker build him a power base within the Pacific. Their tenuous association only lasted til Strucker built Hydra. He double-crossed Red Skull assuming the title Supreme Hydra. Red Skull vanished shortly afterwards, and Hydra suffered its first crushing defeat. 

Many believe, Red Skull allied with Allied Forces tipping them about Hydra, possibly under an alias. Strucker faked his death assuming a new alias. Allied Forces assumed him dead. He rebuilt his organization pursuing world domination, only to be discovered, and his beloved Hydra destroyed, yet again. Many accredited Red Skull with its destruction. 

He'd suffered many crushing defeat. Nothing broke his spirits. Strucker rebuilt again, only to almost perish during a fateful encounter with Charles Xavier and Magneto. As he'd done so many times, he faked his death assuming another identity. Strucker moved his base of operations unto America, and chose to remain behind the scenes. 

He accomplished this by first appointing a new Supreme Hydra leader and second by creating THEM, a super secret society within to oversee Hydra and its sister societies, even adopting the title, Grand Imperator. Few elite members even knew about its existence. He only revealed himself alive with global domination within his grasps, but suffered yet another crushing defeat. 

Strucker vanished without a trace. Much speculation surrounded his 'death'. Some believed, he'd perished during a nuclear accident. Others insisted, a coup deposed him. His most loyal supporters said, he was immortal and would return at the appointed time, though none knew when. Like an ancient prophecy, their 'messiah' resurfaced nearly three decades later to reclaim what's his, only to learn the unimaginable had occurred during his absence. 

His precious Hydra crumbled within and without. His successor couldn't hold things together. His members quarreled among themselves splitting into various warring factions. And, when all the dust finally settled, only three factions remained intact. 

Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker or his son (depending on which 'resurrection' stories you believe) defeated and reunited Hydra's warring factions in the Americas. 

Jacob 'Jake' Fury—Nick Fury's little brother under the code name Scorpio—did the same inside the Phillippines. 

Doctor Octopus and Modok expanded A.I.M. No longer content with squandering their superior intelligence, as mere lackeys, for mere money. Both sought to prove themselves, and did so by unifying all of Hydra's European branches. 

WEE was technically a separate organization. Gemini perceived an opportunity to expand his base of power. He joined Hydra gaining Africa and the Middle East. 

Strucker knew what Hydra needed most. An enforcer feared the world over. He sought the only qualified person, The League of Shadows founder Ra's al Ghouls. Knowing, he'd rule Asia with an iron fist, which would ensure Hydra's control. 

Saran Maddox headed the Shadow Committee, an oversight committee governing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s daily operations. Her secret mission plant Hydra cells throughout their ranks. 

Cost of Failure

Jack Hench bubbled over with excitement. This was the chance of a lifetime. Pull this off and his company could double its business overnight. He'd heard the rumors, but never imagined them true, til contacted by Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker about hosting a 'sit down' between Hydra and her allies. He graciously accepted this opportunity. Of course, no one would be there personally. That way, there'd be less chance of being double-crossed by either faction or associate. The last monitor pops on. 

“We're all here, I see,” Jack Hench opens this meeting. “Let me take this opportunity...”

“Save your lies, Capitalist,” Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker asserts his headship, overwrought so many of his best people could be bested by children without any formal military training. 

“Business before pleasure,” Scorpio agrees. 

“Ah, so shall it always be,” Ra's smiles, pivoting his camera. Two Asian men and a younger woman knelt with heads bowed. Each accepted his/her fate, simply awaiting the inevitable. Heads severed by an executioner or, if deemed worthy, given the honor of committing seppuku. 

“Why'd your people fail us, Ra's? The League of Assassins are supposed to be the best,” Modok accosts his assassins' efficiency.

“And they are,” Ras's attests his school superiority. 

“And yet a 24-year old girl bested them?” Scorpio scorns the ninja master's acclamation. 

Ra's hides his contempt behind a neutral smile vaunting, “My students simply underestimated their opponent. That won't happen again. And besides, mine weren't the only loosers, were they?” 

Modok falls silent grimacing at his partner. 

Doctor Octopus wasn't so timid. He knew, the master assassin inadvertently insulted their branch. Letting that go would only undermine their followers' loyalty. “What's that supposed to mean, Ra's?” 

“Nothing. Simply an observation,” he denigrates the situation. 

“Nothing, huh?” Doctor Octopus sneers over Ra's incompetence. “We held a vote. Scorpio, Modok, myself, and Gemini. We decided we'd wait, til later, and then steal S.H.I.E.L.D.'s scroll. You guaranteed we'd have it, before those children or S.H.I.E.L.D. knew what hit them. And what'd our collaboration earn us? Failure. Frustration. Death. And marred reputations”. 

“Speaking of reputations,” Modok defends their branch's efficiency, “our research shows something else very interesting. Sixty of our people ventured inside that temple. Twenty-four came back out alive. How many did you lose, Ra's?” 

“Forty went in, only three came out alive,” Ra's slams his hand against his chair's arm. 

“That's a 92.5% mortality rate, as compared with our 60%,” Doctor Octopus preens. “And that isn't all. Our sister factions did better than your precious League of Shadows, Ra's. 

Struckers sent in forty-four and lost thirty-three equaling a 75% mortality rate. 

Scorpio sent in thirty-eight and lost twenty-seven equaling a 71.1% mortality rate”. 

Ra's becomes so wroth over those statistics. He shoves aside his usual executioners. He refuses the condemned the privilege of seppuku. Ra's raises his own sword beheading them all, one-after-another, taking his seat in front of the monitor invoking, “Do you question my school's resolve any longer, Gentlemen?” 

Scorpio refused to be upstaged. He loads a snub-nose machine gun and mowing down his 27 survivors retorting, “Do you doubt ours?” 

Doctor Octopus sneers, mocking both men openly. He was more old school. Beheading and simply mowing down an opponent may be more cost effective, but didn't, in his opinion, drive home the true cost of failure. He clatters towards his prisoners on his many octopus legs. Doctor Octopus peers deep into their eyes, embolden by their emanating terror, before plunging his tentacles into their chests ripping out their still beating hearts. 

Modok watches his partner drop the last prisoner, and turns back towards the camera at the same time pluming, “Do you question ours?” 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Gemini conciliates, “we're getting off course here”. 

“Easy for you to say,” Scorpio dismisses gruffly. 

“You didn't lose anyone inside that temple,” Strucker complains. 

“True,” Gemini doesn't disagree, “however, I lost over 120 agents outside Possible's home, and about as many outside the Stoppables. And we still don't have our scroll”. 

“And she still never turned over that scroll,” Saran Maddox assures her co-conspirators. 

“How can you be so sure?” Jack Hench weighs in his two cents. 

“Easy,” she despised vermin like him questioning her word. “Fury's been going ape over what Possible did with his scroll. Her partner's been thoroughly questioned. He doesn't know anything about our scroll. In fact, he wasn't even aware they were working for S.H.I.E.L.D.”. 

“Where else could she have hidden that scroll?” 

“We don't know,” she admits S.HI.E.L.D.'s failure. “We searched her parent's home, her partner's, even six of her closest schoolmate's apartments and their parents' homes. Nothing”. 

“Didn't you send Black Widow to recover it from the hospital?” Struckers disputes, feeling she was hiding something from them all. 

“Yes. Fury did,” Saran admits that much. “Possible handed a scroll over”. 

“Woman,” Scorpio gets upset over being strung along, “what do you mean a scroll?” 

“Simple,” she holds up the scroll in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s possession, “this one's a fake”. 

“Are you sure?” Everyone else blurt about the same time. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. conscripted Dr. Miguel Monsoya, the Romanian archaeologist, to authenticate this scroll. He, and three other archaeologists, ran an BETM spectrographic analysis agreeing: this scroll's nothing but a forgery”. 

“What do we do now?” 

“We wait,” Modok deadpans. 

“Wait?” Scorpio contends, “Are you trying to be funny, Modok?” 

“Not at all,” Modok assets the obvious. “Just being practical. Our contact inside the hospital isn't sure whether Possible's technically alive or dead. She's not showing any brain activity. And we cannot possibly retrieve her memory engrams without at least marginal brain activity”. 

The meeting ended there. Everyone abruptly disconnects his/her monitor, leaving Hench alone. In the dark. Seated inside his office. Back at HenchCo's black room vault. 

Around The Clock

Three months. Day and night. 24/7. Someone stayed at her bedside, just in case she awoke or even passed away. She wouldn't be alone. James and Anne Possible, Ron, his parents, even her schoolmates, now grown, took turns watching over her while the others slept. 

Family and friends grapple with making sense of her actions. A single question topped their list, 'How could an easygoing women turn so cold-blooded? Her actions left roughly 240 people dead, depending upon whose report you believe. All butchered by a weapon, that doesn't officially exit. And yet, she not only acquired, but installed these gruesome weapons, all without alerting local, state, or federal authorities, her doting parents, nosy brothers, or inquisitive partner. What's worse, Global Justice seemed determined to charge her with cold-blooded murder, if she ever regains consciousness. 

Her family and friends all agree, Middleton Life and Casualty would've pulled her plug already, if Kim hadn't hid something authorities wanted so desperately. 

Tonight was her night. Dr. Anne Possible worked her hospital shift, 12-solid hours. Her body was physically exhausted. But, the mother inside wouldn't permit her neglecting her baby. Hanna stopped by two days ago. She simply grasped Kim's hand chattering away. Kim never regain consciousness, but lightly squeezed her hand. Anne prayed she'd done the same, again. For her. The clock ticks into the early wee hours. Anne Possible dozes off asleep by her daughter's bedside. 

Patty Morse was a 3rd generation Hydra member. Her family settled in Middleton nearly 20 years ago. She attended nursing school even securing a job at Middleton Medical Center, as ordered. Patty took her job seriously, but valued her Hydra service more. She received her newest assignment, early this morning. Tonight Hydra would extract Kim Possible memory engrams. 

Patty clocked in at exactly 11:55 p.m. She makes her rounds setting up herself a strong alibi. She, too, waits out the clock. Knowing, it would be long. The older redhead would be asleep. She grabs her supplies easing inside Kim's room. Anne lay sideways in the chair asleep, as expected. She removes the syringe's cap spitting it aside. Each step masked with extreme caution, beeping vitals monitor, even the ventilator, sucking old air out and pumping fresh air into her lungs. 

Anne senses a stranger's presence. A part of her screamed, 'Wake up!' Her body was so exhausted. It simply refused to comply. Anne grunts. 

Patty stops cold. 

Anne turns over snuggling into her oversize queen comforter, left by James, when he set with her during the day. 

Patty stays motionless a couple of minutes, while the older redhead gets comfortable, dozing back off again. She eases closer leaning over her sleeping form. 

Anne wakes up, hearing ragged gasp-grunt and plastic syringe clatter against the floor. She jumps up backing all the way into the nearest corner. Her mouth opens ready to scream. Her tongue simply wouldn't comply, too paralyzed with soul-numbing terror, over what her eyes saw. 

A black hooded figure in a form-fitting one-piece catsuit stood near the foot of her daughter's bed. Claws thrust clear through a nurse's back perforating her heart. Blood seeping out her puncture wounds and mouth's crook. “Relax, Doctor, I won't harm you or you daughter”. She tosses aside the nurse's body retracting her claws. 

Anne doesn't say anything. Her eye rake the nurse's butchered remains. 

“Copper-Top,” the stranger lurked over her daughter's sleeping form, “I told you, 8 years ago, tell the authorities what you'd found. Did you listen? No. Why'd you have to be so damn idealistic? You saved my life then. I guess, it's my turn. You concentrate on getting better. I'll protect your family, even that bumbling idiot boyfriend of yours”. She reaches into her sleeves removing a syringe. 

“Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?” Anne protests anyone but a license doctor treating her daughter. 

“Preparing the Little Princess for transport, Mrs. Possible”. 

“Transport? Are you crazy,” she protests all the stronger. “Simply moving could kill her”. 

“She's dead either way,” the hooded vigilante attests. 

“Why?” Anne shows great concern over her daughter's well-being. 

“That nurse worked for a terrorist organization called Hydra. Long story, short, your little girl has something they want so badly, in fact, they're willing to kill to obtain it. That nurse was about to inject you with 6-micrograms of poison dart frog toxin. In case you don't know, 2-micrograms would've been sufficient enough to kill an adult your height and weight. Your family's marked for death, and a Hydra extraction team's headed this way to take your daughter, by force, if necessary, and they're prepared to kill every man, woman, or child here; whoever's in their way”. 

“Who are you? And where are we going?” 

“Your daughter and her partner...” 

“Ron?” 

“Is there another?” She cinches this game of 20-questions. “Both simply know me as S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight. I'm taking your family and her partner's into our protective custody, and you'll be transported aboard the helicarrier. It isn't impenetrable, but safer than here”. She leans over inject syringe into Kim's IV. 

Syntho-Drama

Aurora barely gets this done throwing the syringe away. One minute, everything was fine; and the next, rippling explosions cut a devastating path of destruction through the hospital's center. Each blasts only got that much closer. Every pane in Kim's unit shook in greater intensity. 

“Jayda, what's happening?” 

Her car's AI scans the hospital, doctors, nurses, orderlies, even personnel reporting telepathically, “Front and back exits are under siege”. 

“Blake report?” 

“Miss Knight,” she shouts more rippling explosions, “we're under heavy attack”. 

“What's blocking our way?” 

“Some robotic creatures led by a blue guy and green woman”. 

“Synthodrones,” orange flames engulf her clenched fists. 

“Drakken and Shego,” Anne switches Kim onto the portable ventilator. 

“Recommendations, Agent Blake?” 

“Do what you do best, Agent Knight?”

“Copy that”. 

“Jayda, meet me on the side outside Kim's room”. 

“Be there in 30-seconds,” the AI cranks up and back out its parking pace. Jayda peels out leaving rubber behind. She drifts around the circular ramp never slowing but picking up speed. 

“How many sythodrones are there, Jayda?” 

“Exactly sixteen: ten inside the hospital headed your way and six outside waiting; three in the front and three in the back”. 

Jayda jumps the curb speeding down the sidewalk. Pedestrians dive out the way bitterly cursing this crazy driver. Jayda leaves the sidewalk, speeds across the back lawn, and darts between buildings. 

All Sythodrones takes notice converging in every direction. 5.45-mm and 5.56-mm AP rounds do little but scratch this sporty tank. 

Jayda beeps her owner earbud. Aurora triggers the shape charges, planted roundabout Kim's room. The detonation proves strong enough tears a gaping hole in the wall, and catapulting rubble over the car's   
hood and across the yard roundabout. The AI opens the passenger and driver's doors projecting a force field out three feet. 

Anne grabs her daughter, while Aurora carrier the portable ventilator. Anne climbs through the hole. Aurora makes sure the tubes don't get snagged along the way. She helped mother and daughter inside the vehicle. She slams the passenger door diving over top the vehicle. The force field collapses, and 5.45-mm and 5.56-mm AP rounds zip past her personage. Aurora jumps behind the wheel slamming the driver's side door. 

Synthodrones converge upon them from all sides: three from the back, three from the front, and the rest literally crash through various section of the hospital's bricked exterior. AP rounds didn't slow them down. These synthodrones switch over unto deadlier countermeasures. 

“Aurora, power scans reveal Class-3 to 4 Romanian phaser rifles being activated roundabout our position. These readings suggest they're set to kill. Activating shields”. 

The sythodrones open up seconds later on full auto. Jayda's shields absorb 4-6 megajoules per shot. Hit came so fast. One no sooner lands; another would tap their shields, then another. The shots simply kept coming in ever increasing intensity and joules. 

Aurora knew, they would last long simply sitting here. She jams the accelerator unto the floor. Her tail end slides sideways burning tire grooves in the moist grass. Laser shot increase. Integrity field dropping a little more with each joule absorbed. 

Her car was about to emerge between buildings, when a blue skinned man jumped in front of their car aiming his laser. 

“Watch out,” Anne screams, “or you'll...” 

'...hit him,' was cut short. Aurora simply mashes the gas harder. Syntho-Drakken doesn't get a single shot off. Her front bumper severs his knee caps catapulting him up and over her vehicle. 

Revenge Is Never Sweeter

Anne gasps in horror. Their rescuer ran down her victim without flinching. Her concerns escalate upon hearing Shego bewailing mournfully “Dr. D!” 

Anne recognized the seething rage in the mercenary's eyes. 

Shego couldn't let them get away. Not after what they'd done. She grabs a synthodrone's discarded G36 assault rifle slapping a c-mag into its chamber. She straddles the motorbike revving its engine. Tires peel, as the rear slides to and fro. Gears grind and motor hums. She falls into their rearview very quickly closing the gap. 

Her aim proves dead on. 5.56-mm HEI rounds detonate upon simultaneously impacting the car's shields, without any discernible damage. Shego discards the assault rifle activating her laser rifle. The power pack comes online beeping full charge. She selects the 10th setting, not intending to let anyone live, who' dare hurt Dr. D. 

Aurora weaves her way through traffic, even on-coming. He speedometer passes over 250-mph (or 402-km/h). 

She couldn't stomach them getting away, not after what they'd done. Neither could her ride maintain such speed for much longer. Engine already whining so hard. She was afraid it'd sputter one last time and   
ultimate give out, any second. She lobbies various size plasma balls home to slow them down. 

Jayda's scans conclusively prove beyond a doubt. Shields may absorb one, maybe two, direct hits. Alarms sound inside the vehicle. Aurora does what Shego wanted, not slowing but varying her speed, speeding up and slowing down. A plasma ball misses them impacting the yellow and tan Ford Thunderbird ahead. The ball proves so hot. It ate slam through its metal chassis til triggering the vehicle's gas tank. 

Anne leans over hugging her baby tighter. She uses her own body to shield her ailing daughter, as fiery debris and various size shrapnel beat against the front windshield. The wreck drops back, parallel with them, veer left and ricochets off the fender, and into on-coming traffic. 

Brakes shriek loudly, as drivers cut their wheel, more in instinct than thought, simply tying to avoid wrecking. No way to truly stop. Most simply slide across the blacktop slamming one into another. This same scene plays out so rapidly, so many times. The causeway gets shut down in a matter of seconds. 

Anne breathes a little easier. Sure, Shego couldn't pursue them any farther. Her little hope was very quickly dashed, peering through her side mirror. 

Shego leaves the causeway jumping the curb. Her motorbike soars through the air splashing inside the drainage ditch, beside the causeway. Her tires kick up ample water. Her motorbike still picking up speed, rapidly, and closing the gap once again. Shego climbs the 45o embankment. Her speed exceeds 105-mph (or 168.98-km/h). Her motorbike effortlessly soars over the crippled vehicles. 

Aurora does the last thing their opponent would ever expect. “Jayda, engage cloak”. An electric current passes over its exterior rendering the vehicle virtually invisible. 

She'd lost sight of her target. Shego wasn't discouraged. She knew the targeted car's relative size and speed. She scans the open highway ahead. Seeing nothing. She still doesn't slow down. Her anger boils over. Driving her to go faster and faster. 

And that's what Aurora wanted. She slams on brakes parking diagonal across the causeway. Drivers across the divide bottleneck trying to ascertain what's going on. Why was a lone motorcyclist barreling down a deserted stretch of highway at such increasing speed?” 

Shego grows impatient, still no site of her targets. She accelerates, speedometer passing 180-mph (or 290-km/h). Her gallant charge comes to an abrupt halt, when her front tire impacts the driver's side door. Her front end bends inward and back end bucks hard catapulting her up and over their vehicle. She crashes face first without a helmet into tumbling across the blacktop. 

“Vital signs, Jayda?” 

“None”. 

“Oh, Dear God, what a waste,” Anne protest such senseless violence. 

“Relax, Mrs. Possible,” Jayda eases her hysteria, “it's a synthodrone, like Drakken's earlier”. 

“Jayda, collect that body. It could give us some valuable clues, like maybe who's really behind this insanity. Start analysis while we're in route”. Her AI does as instructed. A green beam hits the syntho-Shego shrinking its body. Robotic arms reach out storing the robotic carcass inside the trunk. 

“Annie, did you collect your owner's family?” 

“James, Tim, Jim, Ron, Hanna, and their parents are with me. We're packed like sardines but headed for S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier”.

“You control Annie? She disappeared when Kimmie got shot”. 

“Relax, Mrs. Possible,” Annie assures her owner's mother. “I'm not under her control. Kimmie told me to stick with Aurora til whoever made their move”. 

“And I've updated her systems”. 

“Flight mode engaged,” Jayda announces, producing and igniting a large booster out the back and two mini -boosters on each side along with dual wings for lift, climbing sharply in altitude. Annie does the same. 

Frenemies Among Friends

“Director, I have an emergency call on your private red line”. 

“Directorate-7?” Romany, head of communications, nods his affirmation. “What's the nature of this emergency?”

“They're broadcasting an Omega-10 Emergency Alert, Sir”. 

“Who's clearance code?” 

“Scarlett Flame”. 

“Everyone Omega-9 and below, get off my deck immediately”. Men and women regardless their ranks don't question his orders, simply leaving in single file. 

“Jackson, secure this deck. No one in or out, til I say so”. Jackson sets his security team roundabout the bridge's exits, even scanning for any bugs. 

“Clear, Sir,” he alerts his superior. 

“Put her through, Romany”. 

“Scarlett Flame, what a pleasure...” 

“Director, forgive my being crass. I don't have time. I'm 10-minutes out and closing fast. I have two F-18s on my six. The pilots refuse to accept my S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance classifying me...” 

“They're resuming attack formation,” Fury hears a computer warn. Fighter pilots open up. Two six-barrel rotary cannons spewed 20-mm rounds at 6,000-RPM. Each projectile leaves its barrels at blazing   
speeds. The turbulence proves so severe. Mos miss their mark but detonate upon impacting the nearby buildings, parked cars, even residential homes below. One even detonates inside a city park breaching a gas main triggering rolling subterranean explosion across several city blocks, blowing even nearby manhole covers and caving in three city streets. 

“Scarlett Flame, F-18's have a service ceiling of 50,000-ft (or 15,000-meters)”. 

“Climbing now, Director”. 

Anne cradles her baby tighter. She prays under every other breath. Aurora climbed in altitude over 46,000-feet per minute (or 233.68-meters per second). 

Terrorists escaping, patrol leader orders, “Let's light 'em Beaver”. Both aircraft launch two AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles, apiece. Four missiles race towards them at Mach 2.7. 

“Jayda, calibrate and launch 20 solar flares calibrated with our exhaust readings”. The AI does as instructed. All twenty flares ignite, burning with such intensity, jetting in opposite directions, like a spider   
web. Three missiles lock onto detonating upon contacting its targeted flares. One simply stayed locked on their tail, and refused to be shook so easily. 

“Jayda, take it out with the laser. A tail section peels back and laser rises out its alcove. The AI locks onto the last projectile firing. The shot impacts the missile's nose triggering its payload. 

“Fury, you have 30-seconds. Get these idiots off my six...” 

“Or what?” Fury couldn't believe he could be so stupid. Challenging her resolve was a sure fire way to get her to do something rash. 

“I destroy them,” he gets told. 

A car destroying a fighter jet? He'd heard everything, now. Fury didn't dare repeat that thought out loud. He'd already said something stupid. Once was enough. “Just calm down and don't be rash...” 

“Rash, Sir? These idiots are firing on me. A duly authorized S.H.I.E.L.D agent someone's falsely classified an Omega-Red class terrorist”. 

“Locking on again,” Jayda alerts her own, “launching two AIM-7 Sparrows, apiece”. Each missile blazed across the sky at Mach-4. 

Standing Orders

“Scarlett Flame, what exactly are these pilots demanding?” 

“They said Global Justice's labeled me a terrorists. It seems, that one-eyed bitch demands I turn my witnesses over or get blown out the sky, me and them, Sir”. 

“Warning, Aurora, team leader calling in back up”. 

“Screw this,” Aurora spirals into a dive. Her rate of descent exceeding Mach 6. The AI analyzes the situation calculating the appropriate response advising her owner. 

Aurora knew, these bombs have super advanced targeting systems. Their locking systems would be harder to trick than those last ones. 

Jayda disperses solar flares in singles and clusters. All missiles easily avoid the singles. Two lock on detonated inside targeted clusters. The last two easily avoid this trap, locked on their exhaust. And it wasn't simply their heat signatures, but vapor trail. 

Aurora knew. They had one shot. At long shot, at best. Alas, it was their only hope. She accelerates their descent ordering, “Jayda, divert all remaining power unto the integrity field”. 

The fighter pilots come back around for another pass. Neither bother warning her simply opening up with their full fury. Their six barrel rotary cannons spewed 20-mm rounds faster than ever.

Aurora zigzagged across the sky. 20-mm shots simply kept coming. She couldn't avoid them all. “Shield integrity down 17%,” was the last thing Fury head, before something severed their connection. He lost contact with an agent in distress, in the heart of the battle. 

“Romany, get her back on this line. Now,” Fury demands immediate action. 'I'm trying,' wasn't good enough. Not this time. 

Romney continues to hail said agent. Only, there was no response. His hand fly across his key board searching for a justifiable reason Anything, that preferably, could be construed his fault. Not with Fury this mad. Only, there wasn't one. “Sir,” he clears his throat nervously, “our communication equipment's fine. Hers could've been heavily damaged during the preemptive attack”. 

“Sir, I have her on radar”. 

“What's the situation Wilkes?” 

“Director, Scarlett Flames wasn't exaggerating,” the chief of strategic operations alerts his superior. “Two F-22s and three F-16s are joining this fight. Satellites coming into range now”. A 1994 Jaguar XJ220S TWR comes into view spiraling out of control. F-18s hot on its tail. Rotary cannons blasting its shields left and right. 

“Romany, get me that lead pilot”. 

“Sir, her name's Lieutenant Elaine McInnis, with the Eastern Air Defense Sector's 224th ADG”. 

“Connect me into her com, now”. 

Romney connection his superior with the team's leader. He gives him a two-thumbs up. 

“Lieutenant McInnis”. 

“Who's this?” 

“My name's Nicholas Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“What can I do for you, Sir?” She'd heard about and respect his organization's accomplishments. 

“First, cease attacking my agent. Second,...” 

“Your agent, Sir? Terrorist, you mean,” she quickly corrects him. “She attacked and demolished a hospital in Middleton, Colorado, killing nearly 20 civilians in the process, even ran down some guy, just so she could kidnap some vegetable on life support”. 

“Lieutenant, wires got crossed somewhere down the line. She didn't kill anyone. That hospital was attacked by synthodrones. My agent...” 

“Syntho...what?”

“Robots, of a sort,” he tries to sway her doubts, simply to listen to reason. “Fact is...” 

“Sir, I mean no disrespect. My unit's been put on full alert by Secretary of American Defense, Walter Nevans. My base commander gave explicit instructions, talk this maniac down or blow her out the sky”. 

“What about the innocent witnesses in her vehicle?” 

“Acceptable losses, when compared with what she's done. I have my orders, Sir”. 

A Twist of Interpretation

“Then, we both have a problem”. 

“Lieutenant Commander Shepherd, alert Travers in CATCC and have the controller launcher our fighters. We'll defend our agent at all costs”. 

“Director,” she tries to discourage such hostile actions, “I implore you reconsider your actions. You will be attacking American and Canadian citizens, who're only securing our borders. And over what? A rogue agent operating under her own agenda?” 

“Sorry, Lieutenant, you leave me no choice,” he slashes his thumb across his throat. Romany nods, killing their connection with Lieutenant McInnis' plane. 

Meanwhile, Aurora's Jaguar continued its accelerated descent coming ever closing to impacting terra firma. Her weapons systems hot and ready to execute the only hope for survival. 

Jayda only waiting on her owner's word. 

“30-seconds,” Jayda alerts. 

“Fire,” Aurora orders with such fervor. Anne jerks involuntarily, terrified what she had planned. The AI fires every nano-missile in its arsenal. Every single ordnance detonates upon impacting the ground, only making this crash simulation more believable than ever. 

“CATCC, recall our fighters. There's no need to engage the hostiles. Our agent is dead, and ends our dispute. For now”. Fury plays the gambit dealt. Praying he predicted his agent's actions correctly. 

Both pilots reverse tap S.H.I.E.L.D's communications hearing his declaration. Two AIM-7 Sparrow impacting where she'd just crashed sway their doubt. Even she couldn't survive that. 

What they didn't know? Aurora activated her cloak, while concealed amidst the dust and debris, and pulled up at the last possible second, before impact. She monitored the F-18s returning unto base. 

Three minutes. You could hear a pin drop aboard the helicarrier. No one dared speak. Unsure how their boss might react. Eyes glued on the bridge viewer. All the while thinking, she'd pulled off the impossible many times. Each hoped she'd done the same thing here. 

“Director,” Romany breaks the tension, “we're being hailed”. 

“On screen”. 

“Director Fury, permission to come aboard”. 

“How many, Scarlett Flame?” 

“Two flying cars”. 

“Bring the civilians inside the western area. It's less likely they'll see something sensitive”. 

“Yes, Sir,” she acknowledges her orders. “Oh, I'll warn you. These twins are tech geniuses, and very prone to experimenting on any electronics or chemicals they can swipe”. 

“Your caution is duly noted, Scarlett Flame. Fury out,” he leaves the bridge heading towards his office.


	6. Deceiving and Being Deceived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim starts her investigation. She still cannot tell the 'good guys' from the bad. One thing become obvious. Each has their own motives for possessing the ancient weapon described in those ancient scrolls. 
> 
> Hydra lost their best shot at recovering their scrolls. Hence, Strucker decided to escalate the war between humans and mutants. The best way, have the X-Men attack SHIELD's helicarrier. 
> 
> Kim joins the battle trying prevent man's extinction, humans and mutants.

Thickening The Plot

Jayda completes her analysis of the syntho-Shego relaying her findings. Aurora had her next lead. She drops the snytho-Shego off by Dr. MacLain's lab, before heading out. Hoping his team could find something Jayda missed. 

*

“Sir,” Jackson alerts Fury, “we have an unauthorized departure”. 

“Where?” 

“Western wing, Sir”. 

“Scarlett Flame,” he grumbles under his breath. 

“Where'd she go? Who'd she speak with? And what'd she access aboard my ship?” 

“Black Window's settling our guests inside their guest quarters”. 

“Dr. Ingles, rushed the Possible girl and her mother unto the ER. Her portable ventilator was about six minutes to complete shut down, Sir”. 

“Scarlett Flame met Dr. MacLain inside his lab?” 

“Get me his lab”. Romany taps him through. 

“Dr. MacLain,” Nick Fury pops on his lab viewer, “what'd you tell my agent?” 

“The young lady...” 

“Yes, her,” he snaps, stepping closer unto the monitor. 

“Nothing, Director”. Fury casts a sideways glance over the vid-link, ripe with doubt. “Honest,” Dr. McLain raises both hands in surrender, “I didn't have to say anything. An independent scientific team told her what she needed in a foreign language”. 

“What about your lab recorder...” 

“All surveillance, recorders, anything electronic went dead the second she stepped into my lab, and proceeded functioning properly again, when she left, Sir”. 

“I suspected as much,” Fury curses under his breath. “That woman's paranoid about security. Let me know what her or this external team might have uncovered, ASAP, Doctor”. 

“I will, Director”. 

Fury signs off, noting aloud, “That woman's a royal pain in my backside. But, I'll be damned if she doesn't get positive results. I simply wished she'd follow protocol”. 

“Maybe that's why she attracts so much trouble, wherever she goes,” Deputy Director Roxanne Mariah couldn't deny she got results, but at what cost. The woman was a loose cannon; a relic. 

“As does any good agent,” Fury reminisces aloud about his younger days in the field. 

First Impressions

Kim waits two days. It took that long to verify what Jayda had uncovered. Acting too hastily could escalate this war faster, before she had to necessary answer to appease both sides. She lands her car atop a building, approximately two blocks away. She never questioned Hench's involvement in attacking the hospital or her. She simply couldn't figure, why he'd want her dead so desperately? She knew he'd never play twenty question. He viewed every negotiation on gambler's terms. Her hand was too weak. Play, and she'd surely lose, and the world along with her. 

She rolls out HenchCo HQ's layout and security schematics. Jack may be a megalomaniac. He was also paranoid about security. It paid in his chosen profession. It only seemed befitting, his office be located on the very top floor, and equipped two two emergency escape routes. A simple flick of a switch and he could escape through the small tube beneath his chair. A panic room was also built into his far right wall. 

She must apprehend him before he knows what's happening or can access either avenue of escape. Kim deploys her jet pack putting her suit on stealth mode. She takes a running leap high above the city. Air cannon loaded with six circular shaped-charge explosives. She weaves her way through HenchCo's neighboring buildings approaching his office's blindside. 

She takes aim firing six consecutive shots. The thick glass and howling winds outside easily drown out each shot and the explosives attaching around the window. Her approach timed precisely. She waits 3-seconds til impact before detonating the charges. The concussive blast propels glass shards inward, even knocking Hench out of his chair and over his desk. 

Aurora soars inside landing, perched atop his desk. Jack scrambles back onto his feet, but quickly realizes he's trapped, raising his hands in surrender. “Who are you? What do you want?” 

“My name isn't important. I came for you, Condor,” she shoots him twice with tranquilizer darts. 

Near paralyzing terror invades his mind's deepest recesses. And it wasn't simply her black clad attire. One dread rose above all others, 'He knows'. Only Hydra called him, 'Condor”. His legs turn to mush staggering back and forth. Vision blurry. “Mercy, Supreme Hydra Struckers,” he cries with his last remaining morsel of mental clarity, before passing out cold seconds later. 

Twenty Questions

Jack Hench awoke hours later, unsure about so many things. How long he'd been out? Where was he? What'd she want? He only prayed it wasn't what he thought. If so, he's a dead man. 

His head continued to pound like a war drum. His senses slowly returned, somewhat. He tried to move but couldn't. Armed tied into the ceiling above his head. And feet spread apart, tethered unto floor hooks. 

“Well, well,” he's greeted by his abductor, “you're awake”. 

“Who're you?” 

“Ah, come now, Hench,” she shakes her head with such pity. “You broke the rules. Master insists, we make an example...” 

“Out of me? 

She smiles, stroking her tactical knife's blade. 

“Over what?” 

“The attack on Middleton Medical Center”. 

“I'm innocent. I swear”. 

“Yea, yea, that's what the guilty always say”. 

“Lady, I wasn't anywhere near that place”. 

“Where were you?” 

“Inside my office. All day. And besides,” he raises a logical objection, “the news said robots hit that hospital. My company...” 

“Synthodrones, to be exact”. 

“Well, lady, you want Drakken and Shego”. 

“I initially thought so, too, til discovering a few discrepancies”. 

“What discrepancies?” 

“Team Possible raided Drakken's St. Louis, Missouri lair. Kim Possible and her partner netted G.J. 16 synthodrones; the same makes, models, and number, as those attaching MMC”. 

“Why question me then? You're clearly seeking that one-eyed troll and her glory hound”. 

“Supreme Hydra initially thought the same thing. He demanded I check their alibis,” he pales worse hearing his boss' venerable title. “Both attend an emergency NSSE and GSC conference discussing recent terrorist activity and national instabilities across the globe, and their affect on global commerce, international relations, and such. Point is, neither could've remotely operated those synthodrones during the attack in question. Hydra's top eight debated this new development. All agreed, this was more your style, than theirs. 

“Mine?” His voice trembles with terror. Hydra doesn't show traitors any mercy.

“Is that a confession?” 

“No. No. Of course not,” he shakes his head that much harder. Leaving no doubt. 

“Maybe you'd best clarify your point, Mr. Hench. I'm losing my patience, and wouldn't want to execute the wrong person”. 

Double-Crosses, and Secret Motives

“How can you even suspect me?” 

“Let see,” she starts counting her fingers. “First, these sythodrones are stolen from a secret G.J. warehouse. That, in and of itself, isn't damning. Those people have more holes in their security, than Swiss cheese. What is damning, secondly, whoever's responsible improved on Drakken's work updating these synthodrones with cutting edge tech, straight from your company's secret inventory”. 

“Secret inventory?” He feigns ignore over what she meant. 

“Don't be coy with me, Mr. Hench,” she backhands him hard. “Hydra's invested over $8 billion in your company. Do you really think we'd waste our time and resources without knowing its every aspect, even better than you”.He doesn't deny her assertion, proving another suspicion. 

“No. Of course not,” she shakes her head. 

“Third, a secret override module was concealed within every synthodrone's control matrix. Such a device wasn't originally part of their design. Meaning, someone added them within hours of the MMC attack. Another interesting aspect of these modules, they only allowed someone with your company to assume control over these synthodrones whenever he/she/they saw fit”. 

“It wasn't me. I swear”. He doesn't deny this. 

“Here we go again. The same old impassioned plea. 'It wasn't me. I'm innocent, I swear!' Fact is, I don't care. Neither Drakken and Shego nor Global Justice carried out this attack. Whoever was behind this works with your company, probably upper management, like you, Mr. Hench. This guilty party exposed Hydra to federal and international scrutiny. Master must make an example so others won't ever be this careless again. Of course, you understand: It's nothing persona, only business”. 

Jack knew what that meant. He used that same line with those who condemns over double-crossing him. Death came next. It was just a matter of how and when, unless he could convince her about his innocence, “What other suspects do you have? Maybe I can narrow down the list....maybe see something you could've missed? Not familiar with my company's inner workings” 

“I pray so, or, as their boss, you'll bear the consequences of their actions, complicit or not,”she kneels at eye-level. Hench drops his head praying, genuinely praying, he had answers. “Those behind this were so incredibly stupid. They hired a two-time loser, named Frugal Lucre, to coerce Senior Global Justice Agent Alexander DeSoto into passing along falsified INTEL, in exchange for canceling his enormous gambling debts. 

Seems simple enough. Shady? Sure. But, harmless. Only, that same INTEL instigated New York's Eastern Air Defense Sector's 224th ADG attacking a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent transporting two witnesses and an injured agent back aboard their helicarrier. That incident prompted an anonymous source to point his/her finger at Hydra. Now American FBI, CIA, NSA, ATF, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice, along with dozens of other overseas intelligence agencies and military regimes are probing our current operations. Master may salvage this yet, who knows?” She sharpens her knife against the stone. 

He panics worse giving her more reason to spare him, “Baron Wolfgang Von Struckers, Scorpio, Doctor Octopus, Modok, Gemini,...whoever hired you must believe I'd never be so incompetent”. 

Again, she'd learnt more precious pieces of this mysterious puzzle. “Maybe not, except,” she leaves him hanging, “I discovered more damning evidence against you. Someone, and you did say, you were the only person inside your office all day...” 

“I was”. 

“Well, either you or a ghost used your computer to remotely access that syntho-Shego. Even now, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top scientists are examining that drone. Their techs may not be as thorough as ours, but aren't incompetent, either. Their techs could possibly backtrack its command signal unto your office computer. Which means, you just became a liability. If the cops haul you into interrogation, could you possibly explain this discrepancy without incriminating the master further?” 

Jack Hench starts several explanations, only to end up babbling incoherently, and finally burst out crying and begging for his life. 

“Wait, wait,” she silences, backhanding him across the jaw, “you haven't heard the most interesting part of all this”. 

“There's more?” Jack whines, trembling head to toe. 

“Oh, yea,” she pats his cheeks reassuringly. 

“Against me?” His eyes pleaded she say no. 

“That's for you to answer,” she smiles, still sharpening her blade. “So, I'd choose my next words very carefully. Whatever you say can and will be used...either for or against you”. 

“Me?” 

“Yes,” she strokes his soaring fears. “I caught Mr. Lucre yesterday. Luck for you, he's a tightwad and hates spending a dime. He still had quite a bit of the cash left inside a white envelope in his mother's mailbox. He gladly gave me those same bills with a little persuasion. I traced their serial numbers through Hydra's global banking contacts. Those bill came from your executive discretionary fund under Koehl-Salvatore New Edge Investments, in Zurich”. 

“Wait a damn minute,” Jack grows a spine, “that proves my innocence. I only have one account there”. 

“Who can access this account?” 

“Only CFO Myron Jepson, VP Myles Daley, and myself,” he casts doubts on someone else. “We can only access it through HenchCo's Terror.Net computer, kept inside the basement vault”. 

“Mr. Hench, Mr. Hench,” she scrapes her blade across his throat, “just when I thought I'd pieced everything together. Here, you throw me a knuckle curve”. 

“What do you mean, Miss?” 

“I initially suspected you'd robbed that Global Justice's warehouse. That way, you could cast the suspicion over that blue idiot and his mint mink. I mean, who could blame you. He had outstanding debts of over $2 million, and had robbed your company numerous times, as well as pitting S.H.I.E.L.D. against Global Justice against one another, arguing over jurisprudence. Now you tell me about two more viable suspects”. 

“What happens to me now?” 

“You wait,” she answers him. “I'll check into Mr. Jepson and Mr. Daley. If they're clean, then we're back to square one. I'll have to come back and take care of you, like Supreme Hydra said. Guilty or not, we must make an example of someone. Who better than the boss?” 

“He didn't specifically say he waste me, did he?” Jack holds his breath on that question. 

“No,” she clarifies her alleged assignment, “he ordered, I eliminate those guilty. That's the only real reason you're still alive. I doubted your guilt”. She produces another tranquilizer gun shooting him. Jack collapses asleep. Aurora drags him off into the next cell securing her prisoner. 

Mouth of Hell Itself

“All hail, Supreme Hydra,” Mason Von Richter kneels upon one knee. Head held high extending him a Nazi salute. Richter oversaw Hydra's daily northeast operations. 

“What'd you uncover, Richter?” 

“I conferred with my western counterpart, Rick Schneider, concerning this MMC Middleton attack, Master. Rick initially suspected Drakken and Shego being our best suspects. I've alerted Benjamin Lars, Head of Pacific Operations, Rainmund Lange, Head of Southern Operations, and Gregor Seidel, Head of Central Operations within North America. All assets are out combing their known lairs, even known time shares. A far better suspect came up during my preliminary investigation, Supreme One?” 

“What's that?” 

“A new player has arisen to oppose us”. 

“Have you identified this crusader?” 

“Not positively, Sir”. 

“What have you done?” Strucker hollers with homicidal rage. 

“Here, maybe this will help”. A masked female wearing a black form-fitting catsuit appears on his superior's screen. “Obvious, we haven't confirmed her true identity yet. We do know, however, she's around 5'5” (or 165.1-cm) tall with a 27” (or 68.4-cm) waist, 35” or (88.9-cm) hip, 36C bra, weighing around 110-115 lbs (49.90-52.16-kg). We also suspect, she may be a natural redhead”. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Richter crops a section of the photo zooming in. Faint strands of hair come into view sticking out from under her hood. “A little spectral florescent tests prove those being red hairs. We, however, can't tell whether or not they're dyed. For sure. There's a 74.6% chance she's a natural redhead, Sir”. 

“It's a start,” Supreme Hydra derogates what he'd accomplished. 

“How'd you come across this new crusader?”

“She rescued Possible from the synthodrone attack at MMC in Middleton, Colorado, Sir”. 

“Where'd she take Possible, Richter?” 

“She fled in a 1994 Jaguar XJ220S TWR pancaking Drakken's syntho-double. Shego's became so upset. She stole a motorcycle pursuing the sports car. Police reports say, the chase caused a multi-car pile up shutting down the causeway for miles outside Middleton. Shego's drone then crashed, and was so severely damaged, it simply shut down. This crusader then collected the drone transporting it and her witnesses aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

“Do you think she's a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?” 

“Again, I conferred with my four Hydra counterparts including several intelligence assets oversea. And nothing. I had better luck with our S.H.I.E.L.D. moles. Saran described this asset as a lone wolf. Her name's Aurora Knight, code named Scarlett Flame. I'm still waiting on confirmation, Sir. We believe, Possible herself may have activated Miss Knight”. 

“What gave you that idea?” 

“Possible pulled rank on Lieutenant General Isaiah Rawlings. He swears, he sternly objected her activating this Aurora Knight. She noted his objection, but did so anyway”. 

“If activated,” Strucker reasons aloud, “she can't be a full time S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, if activated. They are on call 24/7. Which can only mean...” 

The prolonged pause indicated master desired his input, “Hydra isn't the only organization seeking the Viper's Eye scrolls, Sir?” He poses with considerable uncertainty. 

“....or our partners in this venture are plotting against us”. 

“Quite possible, Supreme Hydra”. 

The Tie That Binds

“Where's Hench?” 

“We believe, Aurora Knight broke into his office kidnapping him. However, we don't have any real evidence proving our suspicions”. 

“Off his building's top floor? That's brazen”. 

“My thoughts, exactly, Sir,” Richter agrees. “His VP Myles Daley stepped in his shoes. For now. Why do you ask, Sir?” 

“This attack on the hospital bothers me. Shego and Drakken are loners, predominately. Bot have supported our endeavors in the past. Why would they betray us now? They know the penalty, firsthand. And besides, they're 'hiding' on Senor's island, working on our latest secret project. They just don't know they're our stooges”. Strucker busts out laughing, flouting his superior intelligence. 

“Global Justice or S.H.I.E.L.D. could be behind this. One or both agencies together could work to incite a civil war among our factions and allies. That way, we'd be so busy killing each other. Our core operations could be more easily undermined diminishing our global effectiveness. Even they don't have the unrestricted access unto HenchCo's executive discretionary fund and secret inventory, necessary to update those synthodrones with our latest tech in setting up this little frame job. 

That still leaves us with two possibilities. Both are very disconcerting. To say the least. Hench could have betrayed us staging his own kidnapping. That would throw suspicion off him. But, one thing about that scenario bothers me. Jacky Boy is smart. He'd never use a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, especially a loose cannon, like Scarlett Flame, for such a delicate operation. 

One or all our sister factions are the only logical culprit(s). Each branch has considerable assets invested in HenchCo and its worldwide subsidiaries, even unrestricted access unto their discretionary fund and secret inventory. Modok and Doctor Octopus aren't above using loose cannons. In fact, they could've arranged Hench's kidnapping. We'd be so busy blaming one another. They could search out and obtain the scrolls before anyone else. 

Aurora Knight's involvement in all this only worries me more. Tell me, what'd security discover immediately after Hench's abduction?” 

“Supreme One, it's interesting you should ask that. Edger Lawson, HenchCo's Security Chief, did make one speculative observation. A wild animals seemed to have shattered the office window, soared inside and perched itself atop his desk. He discovered deep grooves, like claw marks”. 

“Wolverine,” Strucker grits his teeth cursing his nemesis bitterly. 

“Forgive my ignorance, Sir,” Richter implores his patience. “What does he have to do with this?” 

“Think, Richter, think,” he drives home his point. “Possible debases a 3-star general by pulling rank and activating an assets, even he considered too dangerous. There can only be one reason”. 

“What's that, Master?” 

“Aurora Knight must be a mutant”. 

“Mutant? Are you sure, Supreme One?” 

“Positive,” he states without doubt. “It'd answer so many questions: Rawling's objection over her wanting to activate this mutant, how a lone girl could repel 120 of our best agents, and why whoever's behind this synthodrone attack sent so many. Possible was never the primary target. Aurora Knight, a.k.a. Scarlett Flame was”. 

“How does Wolverine fit into this, Master?” 

“Simple,” he paints a convincing picture. “He's a mutant too. His bones infused with adamantium, his claws too. Now compare what happened unto Nurse Patty Morse. Scarlett Flame rescued Agent Possible, how?” 

Richter eyes light up with realization. 

“That's right”. Strucker drives home his next point, “By evisceration. Scarlett Flame must be a mutant with retractable claws, like Wolverine's, possibly adamantium, too. In light of this, her part-time S.H.I.E.L.D. status makes perfect sense. I'll bet, she's a member of those insipid X-Men, and indirectly affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s XC-7 Division, an elite group of Omega-class of mutants, exclusively answerable unto Wilber Cosgrove, Secretary General of the U.N.”

“What do you wish me to do, Master?” 

“Those fools have talked down unto us one time too many. It's time Modok and Doctor Octopus both learn who's the true Grand Imperator really is. Contact those fools and request the Hydra Four be activated and inserted aboard the helicarrier. Their mission is quite simple. Get Possible off the carrier by any means necessary. Her disappearance should bring this Scarlett Flame back into the open, maybe, if we're lucky, Wolverine, too”. 

“And you, Sir?” 

“I'll be busy preparing the X-Men's demise. Worry about your assignment. It's imperative unto my plans, Richter”. 

“It'd be my...” 

“Just for precaution,” Strucker amends his orders, “you should reanimate our Cyclops, Wolverine, Storm, and Rogue clones, have them steal the X-Jet, and attack S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

“What about The Four, Sir?” 

“They accept their mission's risks. Either they'll succeed or pay a failure's price”. 

“Understood, Sir,” he bows, before signing off to carry out his latest orders.


	7. Public Enemy #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim realizes, she can't stop this war as Scarlett Flame alone. She manifests a new persona. A person, human and mutant alike can hate. Maybe that mutual hatred could united them, until she could get to the bottom of who's behind this and their core objectives.

Double Inversity

“Professor”. 

“Professor,” 

“Calm down. Both of you”. 

“What's the problem?” 

“Cerebro, simply went crazy,” Rogue blurts. 

“Can you be more specific, Emma?”

“Rogue and I were inside the chamber scanning for any new mutants, per your instructions. I did detect something”. 

“What was it?” 

“I'm not sure, Professor,” Emma gets very serious. “I sensed something so familiar, but foreign, at the same time. I was about to probe its exact origins, when Cerebro sent a negatively charged psionic pulse back through its control matrix frying my helmet”. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I guess,” she rubs her head, admitting, “my head still throbs and lower limbs a little trembly”. 

“Good,” Professor Xavier settles that issue. “What'd Cerebro do exactly”. 

“It gave the strangest warning ever. A double inversity. code..” 

“What'd you say?” All color drains out the professor's body. 

“A double inversity,” Emma Frost repeats, sensing his soaring concerns. “What does that mean, Professor?” 

“Most assured me this could never happen. Alas, I couldn't leave anything to chance, especially after Jean became the Dark Phoenix. I built a safety feature into Cerebro. If a clone, doppelganger, or anything else resembling an X-Men telepath came near this institution, and its bio-metric scanners couldn't distinguish between the real and fake, Cerebro would sever all connection and go into immediate lock down. Which means, someone resembling one of you, possibly even me, breached this school's security”. 

“When'd this occur, Rogue?” 

“20 minutes ago, Professor”. 

“What'd Cerebro do? And be specific? Every action will narrow down our breach, and who could be behind this”. 

“Like Emma said, Cerebro severed the helmet's psionic link with its control matrix. Sentient droids activated seconds later driving up back across the void. Cerebro erected a force field around itself, even retracting the bridge. It started a countdown saying we had 30-seconds to vacate the chamber or die. We split, and came straight here. What does this mean, Professor?” 

“It means, Cerebro detected a double Emma Frost or Rogue somewhere on school grounds. And worse, these copies were so precise. Cerebro couldn't distinguish between you and these impostures, even with its advanced psonic and bio-metric scans. Therefore, Cerebro's locked us all out and went into complete lock down til this threat's resolved”. 

“Professor,” Cyclops rushes into his office, “someone just stole the X-jet”. 

“Who?” 

“We did,” Wolverine slams his hand down upon the desk. 

“Huh?” 

“More precisely,” Beast clarifies their situation, “Wolverine and Scott's doubles, Professor”. 

“Can you track these thieves, somehow. I want to sink my claws in their posteriors,” Wolverine shows his claws swiping thin air. 

“First, they disconnected the emergency beacon, the transponder, and using a cloak device masking their presence, and obscuring their vapor trail”. 

“Professor, what do we do?” Rogue asks with genuine concern. 

“Put the school on full alert. Trouble's coming”. 

“I figured as much,” Wolverine huffs, exiting the office. 

Public Enemy #1

A klaxon of alarms echoed roundabout the saucer. She'd left Jayda explicit instructions. Don't dare disturb her unless all hell broke loose, and must have, judging by all this fanfare. Aurora shot up in her bed, immediately alert, and asking, “What's the emergency, Jayda?”

“The S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier's under heavy assault”. 

“By who?” Aurora jumps out of bed, dresses in record time, and heads outside her suite. 

“Them,” Jayda access the nearest satellite projecting live 3D assault coverage. 

“X-Men?” Aurora recognizes their sleek black iconic jet. Who wouldn't? 

“I'll admit, intelligence reports on them are pretty sketchy. At best. Even so, their professor would never advocate terrorist activities. If he's attacking S.H.I.E.L.D., and that's a big if, something major must have happened within the last couple of days. Scan all corporations, public and private, in a give state radius, specifically noting any with D.O.D. contracts”. 

“One corporation matches this criteria, Aurora. Eon-A-Core Research, International”. 

“Why does that company sound so familiar?” 

“Unsure, Aurora,” Jayda replies. “Eon-A-Core Research, International is a secret initiative under a Trask Industries and Stark Industries' joint venture, based deep within the Colorado Rockies, underneath Mount Middleton”. 

Suddenly. The unprovoked attacked upon the Possible and Stoppable homes made senses, even how those responsible could so easily assemble such large assault teams in such a short time. “Let me guess, this initiative deals with mutants”. 

“Red hot, girl,” Jayda adds a little humor. “Exact details regarding this mysterious initiative remain sketchy. At best. One thing's abundantly clear, though. Classified S.H.I.E.L.D. documents proves, its XC-Division—a secret initiative which monitors mutant activity around the globe—notes a serious rise in mutant activity lately. 

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) didn't take this threat lightly rebooting its Office of National Emergency (ONE), last year. Trask Industries and Stark Industries have been tasked with designing sentinels, capable of hunting down and terminating Omega-class mutants, deemed a genuine threat unto national security, code naming the project, Operation Final Freedom”. 

“How exactly does this work?” 

“I don't know, Aurora,” the AI admits her own limitations. “Apparently,” she zooms in upon the sleek jet, “he does”. Wolverine comes into view, seated in the jet's pilot seat, spearheading the F-35s and F-22s attack on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier. 

Aurora curses bitterly under her breath. She knew, there must be more: something linking these two corporations and O.N.E. For the X-Men to outright attack the S.H.I.E.L.D helicarrier. “Jayda, comb through Stark and Traks' military contract. Are there any common research, weapons development, even noted rumors linking these two men or their companies specifically with mutants and ONE?” 

“I'm afraid we're back unto Stark Industries and Trask Industries. Both companies are involved in 'X-gene' research”. 

“X-gene?” 

“Dr. Emillana Hoban, Romania's and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s leading bio-molecular xeno geneticist, posed a radical theory several years back, called the X-Gene theory. This theoretic gene's allegedly present in all humans, and its mutations are responsible for transforming normal human into mutants. Modern science simply can't predict this mutation process, or what class of mutant a patient could potentially become, given a certain mutation sequence”. 

“What else did you uncover?” 

“Both companies are probing bio-weaponry, different but complimentary sentinels, nano-morphic warheads...”

“That must be it,” Aurora deciphers their enemies' game plan. 

“What's it?” The AI inquires, now more confused than ever. 

“Unless I miss my guess, the X-Men are currently being set up to become Public Enemy #1, and Wolverine's face, giving DHS and ONE more than enough justification to proceed with this project, Operation Final Freedom”. 

Plan In Motion

“Jayda, get me Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. Now”.

“Fury here”. 

“Director...” A piercing explosion cuts her off mid-sentence. She could hear something snap loose clanking loudly against the deck. 

“Hurry up. Give your report. The helicarrier's under attack”. 

“By who?” 

“Mutants led by Wolverine,” he spews out.

“Sir, I may know why they're attacking”. 

“Why would...?” A secondary explosion ripples over the command bridge. Followed by more steel beams snapping loose and clanking loudly against the deck below. The SAT-link goes dead. 

Aurora waits, hoping the communication array was still intact. 30-seconds isn't usually that long, alas, the clock's hands only seem to slow. “Aurora,” Jayda breaches the tension, “we're being hailed again. It's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

“Put Fury through”. 

“Director, do you hear me, over?” 

“I hear you. Loud and clear. Quick, finish your report. What're these mutants after?” 

“The second scroll”. 

“Wait, second? How many are there?' 

“Five, in all. Each leads unto another temple. Agent Possible only acquired the first. She's simply an ends unto a means, Sir”. 

“Why?” 

“For millennials, legends spoke about ancient scrolls revealing the location of a WMD. Most simply discounted them as lore, until lately. Dr. Miguel Monsoya, the renowned Romanian archaeologist, unearthed pottery referencing five ancient scrolls, collectively called the Viper's Eye. Legend says, each scroll guides the seeks serving as the key unto the next temple. 

Each temple poses five crucible tests specifically designed the test the seeker's character, in various ways. Prove yourself honorable and you may proceed with your journey, or dishonorable and you'll perish. These cryptic scrolls ultimately leads to an ancient weapon, reputed to neutralize all mutant's X-gene, stripping their powers and rendering them human again”. 

“You four, secure those witnesses,” she hears him order someone. 

“Iron Man, Thor, Captain American, and Hawkeye will protect our witnesses, Agent Knight. What will you being doing in the meantime?” 

“I'm heading to Xavier Institute?” 

“Why there?” 

“Demand answers,” she replies pointedly. “The X-Men have always been peaceful in the past, even helped S.H.I.E.L.D. on numerous occasions. Why would they turn against us overnight?” 

“Permission granted”. Few dared go near that school, and he used the term loosely. Too scared of getting infected by whatever mutates that x-gene inside all us and being turned into a mutant, only to be ostracized by their fellow man and become walking targets. He prayed she came up with something, before this could boil over into another mutant verses human war. 

“I...” A loud explosion severs their connection. 

“Romany, get her back on this line. Now”. 

“Sir, I can't”. 

“Why not?” The chief communications officer paled under Fury's choler and piercing lour. 

“Sir,” his TAC officer interrupts, “I doubt he can”. 

“Why's that, Romana?” 

“My scans detect residual explosive particles and scattered debris near her last known coordinates”. 

“A missile”. 

“My thought exactly, Sir. I accessed our Xerces recon satellite capturing this,” he projects an image on screen. A light blazed across the open sky. It moved so fast. You couldn't discern its origin with the naked eye. He slows the video feed. A Trident II Missile streaks across the sky locked onto Aurora's Jaguar, followed seconds later by a massive explosion. 

“Did she escape?” 

“Unknown, Sir”. Fury curses, as more missiles, lasers, and AP rounds continued to pummel their outer hull, every deck and every section suffered varying degrees of damage. 

A Militant Response

“Professor,” Wolverine rushes into his office, “you were right about putting the school on alert”.

Cyclops bursts inside seconds later, “What happened, Scott?” 

“Whoever stole our jet is attacking S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier, even as we speak”. 

“I see”. Professor X remains calm. Too calm, given the circumstances. 

“Just wait, Professor,” Wolverine challenges his steely nerves, “you haven't heard the best part”. 

“What would that be Logan?” Professor X exhales sharply trying to remain outwardly calm. 

“I'm the mastermind leading this mutant attack”. 

“Did Fury or the committee specifically classify this a mutant attack?” 

“Yes, they did, Professor,” Scott's answer only confirms his growing suspicions. “it's all over the news. We're even being blamed with killing S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight”. 

“Oh, no,” Professor Xavier sits back rubbing his chin. Lost in deep though. Agent Knight sought his help in hiding nine possible mutants. Hydra, WEE, the Brotherhood, and several other terrorist were all interested in detaining them, she she didn't know why, or wouldn't say. He sheltered them inside the catacombs beneath the school. 

Not even this agent knew where. Someone must know they're on the premises, only not where, or they would've never killed this agent already or targeted this school, this quickly, just so they'd get spooked and move those under his protection. She's right, there's more behind these attacks than meet the eye. “That can only mean...” He goes to summarize their situation. 

“Already happening, Chuck”. 

“So it is, Logan”. 

Storm glimpses, non-verbally vociferating her schoolmates' worst fears, 'What do they mean?'

Scott merely shrugs both shoulders admitting his own cluelessness. 

“When?” 

“6-minutes ago, Professor?” 

“How many?” 

“Nearly 100 and rising”. 

“Where from?” 

“Stark Industries, Trask Industries, and Iroh Base, outside Louisville, NY”. 

“How long?” 

“Thirty left Stark and Trask Industries headed this way and will be here in around 45-minutes. The rest left a secret base somewhere farther out and will arrive here in 90 minutes, unless something slows the down, or something”. 

“Scott, sound the alarm”. 

“Storm, oversee the students'...”

In The Dark Of Day

Professor Xavier ceases delegating evacuation responsibilities. His wall clock chimes 11:00 a.m. He glimpses outside his window, realizing. The sun donned its mourner's veil plunging the world into pitch black darkness. And whatever was responsible slowly siphoned their school's reserve generators, as well as the city's power grid. A rolling black out encompasses the whole state within seconds. 

Such darkness didn't hinder Beast. His eyes pierces the darkness as easily as light. Beast rushes into the garage checking their vehicles, only to report back, “Professor, all our vehicles are dead”. 

“Sabotaged?” 

“I don't think so”. 

“Then what?” Logan demands a straight answer. 

“Something drained our batteries, even fused their electronic circuits”. 

Something called unto him. Out the darkness. He didn't see anyone, only felt a warm presence, he hadn't felt in quite some time. Professor X backs up his electric wheel chair, maneuvers it around his deck, down the hall, and outside the school. He wasn't sure why it was still operational. Only it was. His chair clear the ramp in 20-seconds rolling across the drive and onto the front lawn. 

He glances perplexed into the open firmament. One minute, the sky was clear; and the next, the very stars begin to simply go dark, one-by-one, and then, in clusters and masses. For no apparent reason. Only a malefic mass schlepped across the ethos eclipsing the moon in a fiery orange halo. The darkness grew denser and more menacing with each passing moment. 

Blood red storm clouds—unlike anything he'd ever seen—materialize overhead. Winds pick up without warning howling beyond 85-mph (or 136.8-km/h). Thunder auspicates their impending doom. Lightning cracks its majestic whip carrying out its judgment. Rains descend with Hephaestus' raw fury. Each droplet stings like fire against man and beast, slowly draining the very life out of every blade of vegetation nearby. 

“Storm?” 

“This isn't my doing, Professor”. She didn't need telepathy to discern his doubts. “I control Earth's storm elements. I can manipulate the weather's properties, but not alter its underlying properties, which have controlled weather since the world's formation. Whatever's behind this isn't a natural phenomena or your usual mutant”.

Gravitational forces pull this menacing mass into Earth's upper atmosphere. These cosmic gases or whatever they might be could've gotten trapped there or even dissipated, drifting over various sections of this globe. But, no. This thing seemed almost alive. The blob remained amorphous, and slowly but surely making its way towards them. That debate was quickly settled in everyone's minds. This mass assumes a ruddy hue, drifting out the sky towards the ground, defying this storm's crosswinds. 

And that wasn't what disturb them most. A large clover-shaped stone fountain adorned the school's front entrance, set just across its circular drive, position midway on the front lawn. A smaller circular basin sat inside its pool. Four ivory angels were erected near its 3, 6, 9, and 12 o'clock positions. All pouring water inside the smaller basin, til it overflowed into the bigger pool. 

All mutants embrace the clover leaf as promising a better tomorrow. Just now, their hopes began to falter a bit. This red mist heats the fountain's waters beyond boiling in mere seconds, only the liquid didn't   
evaporate, but instead transformed into a lava-like fluid. The construct melts into stony sludge. Its lava solvent spills everywhere leaving little but parched earth behind. 

A brilliant shaft of light parts these once-impenetrable clouds a bit. A fiery column opens overhead, quickly filling the void, rotating counterclockwise against nature. The storm continues to rage around the vortex, like waters traversing the frolicking riverbed. Tectonic and seismic activity only increase. The ground beneath their soles start to shake with mounting ferocity. 

Tiny fissures form beneath the surface. Once solid ground cracks open like eggshells. The chasms continue to grow in width and size. Seismic activity reaches such proportions. Even the most sturdy structures on campus prove ill-built exploding into a million pieces. All debris dissolved into their basic atoms, before their eyes. Earth itself seemed content swallowing some. 

“Anyone hurt?” 

“None, Professor,” Storm assures the elder schoolmaster. 

Will Wonders Eve Cease

The fiery column dips down scorching the earth, just beyond the great fountain, about mid-section the front lawn, and slowly rises back into the heavens, revealing an ornate fiery throne: crowned with a western style dragon's head with horned snout and sharp teeth, outstretched crackling phoenix wings, back and lower body (half bird and half-lizard) serving as her chair, dragon limbs as its armrests, and phoenix talons as its legs, a dragon tail wrapped around them for added stability. The red mist starts to dissipate, only to reveal a feminine form now seated upon the throne with her legs crossed. 

“Arise, my children,” she cries in a deeply authoritative voice with hands lifted high, “heed your mother's bidding”. 

The column of fire spins faster exploding with activity. Mighty phoenixes and dragons—creatures of celestial fire—burst through the portal. Wings outstretched. Screeching savagely. All soaring high above her extravagantly bejeweled throne. 

No one else said anything, too tongue-tied, in pure shock. 

“It can't be,” Scott and Logan recognize Jean's Phoenix. 

She matches her children's fiercest cries. Every school window literally explodes under their sonic screams. Glass shards dispelled in every direction, only to be dissolved into nothingness. The miracles didn't stop there. These ferine creatures bend unto her implacable will. Six flaming birds perched on her right, and six dragons on her left, while thousands more of both species circled the skies above. 

The older X-Men and their young students studies her features—a 5'5” (165.1-cm) tall redhead with ruddy skin tone, pinkish-red eyes, and fiery red hair, and wearing a jet black catsuit with a Fire Phoenix and Mystic Dragon ghost-stripped across her chest. 

Professor Xavier gasps in shock and horror. Sure it was her. And he wasn't alone. 

“Jean?” Wolverine inquires, braving to step closer. 

She turns to observe those who spoke, but chosen not to reply. Yet. 

The redhead simply stands up. Head held high. Back arched. Shoulders squared. Solid earth splits open under her fiery soles. Molten lava spew out the chasm swirling around her personage. The X-Men back up unsure about her intentions, and doubly so, when savage woodland creatures appear around them approaching this fiery queen against their very instincts. 

“Guard my father and his friends. We'll handle these threats, as they come,” she instructs all beasts telepathically. 

Lions, tigers, panthers, leopards, and jaguars bow before her moving towards the profess and his X-Men. Younger student mewl in terror backing away, putting as much distance as possible, between them and these savage creatures. 

“C'mon, kitty,” Wolverine wasn't so timid deploying his claws. “Let's see who has the sharpest claws”. 

“There's no need for such hostilities, Wolverine,” the alpha lion addresses his concerns. 

“What the hell?” Wolverine retracts his claws questioning his very sanity. Animals don't talk. 

“Settle down, Wolverine, you're not crazy,” the chief leopard reads his very thoughts. 

“How's this even possible?” 

“We're speaking telepathically through Dragon Phoenix's translation matrix,” the dominate tiger satisfies the gruff warrior's growing concerns. 

Younger students back way, terrifed. First, the sun goes dark. Second, weather goes wild. Third, wild animals surround but don't attack them. Now, a mentor suddenly loses his mind carrying on a lengthy conversation with these predators. It was the apocalypse. Hadn't to be? 

Professor Xavier, Storm, Scott, and Rogue retreat behind him trying to keep students calm, despite what's transpiring around them. Increasing numbers of wild beast rally around him sniffing the air and scratching the ground roundabout, where he stood. 

Their mysterious visitor simply vanishes, as mysterious as she appeared. Her throne, birds of prey, fiery dragons, and wild woodland creatures remain behind, guarding them.


	8. Fashioning The Frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drakken Phoenix saves SHIELD helicarrier. Her actions don't derail, but support Hydra's plans. Its moles assemble SHIELD's Shadow Committee turning everyone against the mutants, and using her actions to cover them attacking SHIELD and justifying hitting the mutants in a preemptive strike to end this war before it starts.

A Shadow Amidst The Storm

This storm blindsided the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. Every meteorologist he'd consulted agreed. This storm wasn't natural, which meant, it was generated by mad science, magic, or an elemental mutant.

Team X-Beta-12, a specially trained XC-7 mutant team, destroyed a weather machine three days ago. Dr. Atmos, its creator, perished during that altercation. Of course, his wasn't the only model on the black market. HenchCo sold numerous older model's schematics. Even so, such machines had never generated such spurious readings in the past. 

He knew one elemental mutant possibly powerful enough to generate a storm of this magnitude, Storm. And, either by coincidence or pure treachery, she's a member of the X-Men, the very mutants attacking his helicarrier, for whatever convoluted reason. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. considered Dr. Strange an ally. No one matches his expertise in the occult arts and magic. As such, he could sometimes be cryptic, if not downright vague. And today wasn't an exception. Dr. Strange cautioned him against acting hastily, swearing. This storm was above even an Omega-class mutant. 

Tons of circumstantial evidence screamed. It's them. Mutants verses human. A war of evolutionary proportions. Again. He simply couldn't shake Dr. Strange's warning or this nagging feeling. Both species were being pitted one against another, like pawns in a chest match. 

“Director, we have company. And lot of it”. 

Nick Fury drops his head swearing under his breath. He'd only heard bad news since this started. So far, the only real good news was, 'This storm drove back the mutants attacking his helicarrier'. Not a single bomb, missile, RPG, laser, or bullet had even scratched their outer hull in nearly six minutes. 

“What do you have, Lieut. Romana?” Fury questions his TAC officer. 

“My senors are detecting combustibles”. 

“Combustibles? What planes could stay airborne in this kind of weather?” 

“That's just it, Director,” he clarifies his reason for alarm. “I've scanned whatever these things are and they don't match anything on record, civilian or military. I don't think they are planes. Period”. 

“What are you saying?” 

“Just this, Sir. My sensors detect hydrogen, helium, carbon, nitrogen, magnesium, and sulfur, among other unidentifiable trace elements”. 

“Can you speculate what this thing...?” 

“Not a thing, singular, Sir, but things, plural, Sir,” Romana relays the gravity of this situation. “And whatever they are, these shadows in the storm lack an electronic signature emitted by warplanes and choppers; and yet, are somehow closing on our position at over Mach-16”. 

Fury's 'battle stations' rally cry gets interrupted by rippling explosions all over his helicarrier. The blasts prove so potent. Reverberations made it all the way unto the command bridge. The helicarrier rocked more fiercely than ever. Engines already stained, just to keep them in the air. Officers scream, getting knocked off their feet and tossed back and forth. The western turbine gives one last wail giving slam out. Western port section dips sharply without warning. The helicarrier's other turbines grind that much harder trying to keep the carrier in the air. 

“Sir,” the head structural engineer shouts over the hull's groans and turbines' piercing whines, “the entire western section just decompressed”. 

“Our crew, the witnesses, Cap, Iron Man...” 

“All gone, Sir,” he didn't have time. “I suggest we find somewhere to land while we can. What little control we have left won't last. The helicarrier's going down one way or...” The front starboard turbine sputters one last time. Metal hitting metal, the blade bends back coming to a grinding halt. Engines smoking and spewing oil. An electrical fire breaks out in its conduit. The helicarrier dips again without warning, and starts to spin, like a top, driven by drunken oarsmen rowing in opposing directions. 

“All hands abandon...” 

Grand Entry

Fury stops mid-sentence. Eyes bulging and tongue tied in pure shock. His mind catches up with and processes what his eyes see. 

Nearly 40 fiery fire birds phase through the helicarrier's command bridge hull. The beasts hover parallel his main viewer circling each other erecting an iridescent fiery column, only to let it dissipate seconds later, and revealing the same 5'5” (or 165.1-cm) redhead mutant the X-Men saw. 

“The Dark Phoenix's back,” Fury stammers over the implications.

“But, she's dead,” the deputy disputes, proving ever the pessimist. 

“I'm Jean's daughter,” the redhead squelches their concerns. 

“Ah, hell, are you here for revenge?” 

“Relax, Director,” she calms his worst fears. “I'm here to save not destroy lives. And I'll prove this by saving those aboard your doomed helicarrier”. 

“But...” Roxanne Mariah, Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., goes to protest again. 

“Don't think you know me, lady, because a few bookworms in white coats assume they knew my mother, too. I'm not her. Facts are. She was bent on destroying humanity. You slew her in self-defense. What more should be said?” 

“I...” 

“Enough questions,” she thunders with great authority. Fury and Mariah fell silent stepping back. The helicarrier continued its spiraling descent, and only this mutant could save their ship. 

“Arise, my children, creatures of the shadows and darkness. Heed my call”. Her eyes began to glow crimson red. Phoenixes and dragon materialize in thin air. The beasts position themselves beneath stabilizing the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier. 

“Have your people...” 

'...start necessary repairs,' gets interrupted. Once loyal crew members jump up around the command bridge, for no apparent reason. Fury, Mariah, and others, there, barely had enough time to take cover. Gold plated armor encases the redhead, head to toe. 

The hostiles cry with feral abandonment. Eyes bloodshot, and jerking. Head snapping to and fro. Limbs twitching violently. Raw flesh burst open like festered boils. Blood runs down their extremities. The pain didn't register in their minds. All this suddenly stops. For no apparent reason. Class-11 laser rifles materialize out their wounds. Every agent aims with clarity and steadiness of hand. Her armor absorbs multiple 4-megajoule shots and AP rounds coming left and right. 

Dragon Phoenix raises both hands chanting in an ancient dialect. All hostiles go rigid dropping their weapons mimicking her chant. Their heads snap into attention, like a muscle spasm. Eyes wide open and bloodshot. Mouths agape. The redhead simply points. Sixteen phoenixes gravitate towards, each phasing with an individual hostile. 

Their eyes roll back into their heads. All collapse on cue sprawled over the bridge. Heads rolling side-to-side and screaming in hellish, limitless agony. The redhead only changed louder and more authoritatively, possibly directing these phoenixes' actions. 

Help In Many Shades

“What are you doing unto my people?” Deputy Director Mariah objects her actions stepping out wielding her own laser rifle, and not afraid to use lethal force. 

“Saving these bio-sentinels' lives,” Dragon Phoenix calmly points a glowing finger at her weapon. 

Mariah's laser rifle dissolves into atoms. Fingers still clutched around its now non-existent trigger. She throws up both hands backing away asking, “What now? They're sentinels. Beyond saving”. 

“For you? Definitely. Me? Not so. I can save these people”. 

“How's this even possible?” Fury probes. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lead scientists all agreed, for the world's safety, all bio-sentinels should be terminated and bodies cremated til nothing but ash. 

“Simple, Director, my children can phase living tissue dissolving the very implants, even now, being used to control these people, against their wills, I might add”. 

“What about their programming?” Mariah objects, never imagining something so complicated could ever really be solved so simply. 

“Probe these agents' off-duty activities over the last three years, at least. And you'll probably find something in common. All have recently been severely injured requiring invasive surgery and a long recuperation, which included rehabilitation, I'll bet”. 

“What're you insinuating?” 

“You're the super spy, Director. I'd think that should be obvious. Someone conditioned your agents right under your noses. I'd focus my investigation on those who helped during their recovery. Those responsible may no longer be with your agency, but, you can bet they put safety agents in place. You see, new bio-sentinels are very unpredictable, to say the least, especially while his/her mind interface with their bio-implants, built into each patient's own unique prosthetics. 

Those behind this, therefore, would need trustworthy agents, scientists, or administrative personnel in place to monitor these subjects, even long after establishing a stable neural interface. Such tech is still experimental. Any number of things could activate a bio-sentinels prematurely: like certain head trauma, a severe electric shock, certain medications, especially anesthetics, even a simply carrier wave mimicking their neural command signal, their creators use in relaying each bio-sentinel's assignments. 

These 'safety agents' monitor their unwilling spies. Such agents aren't enough, though. They could get sick, die, loyalties bought; any number of things. Computers, however, don't have such weaknesses. That way, they have two fail safes, in case one malfunctions and their creators must terminate one unit without exposing the rest. Those behind this had neurosurgeons implant simple augmented prosthetics, one appropriate unto each agent's type of injury (-ies), before starting his/her therapy. Check, and you'll discover, all these agents share that much in common, possibly even the same clinic”.

“Pure conjecture,” Deputy Director Mariah disputes her claims. “Our medical staff...” 

“...would've detected these prosthetics, no doubt,” this mutant admits but stipulates, “but, dismissed them as appropriate for each agent's injury (-ies). Fact is, they'd never imagine these prosthetics may serve a dual purpose: helping your agents overcome their disability and ensuring control over these bio-sentinels, allowing those controlling them to seize control when deemed necessary, like, when I mentioned curing these people. Which only proves, their puppeteers were not only hearing every word those bio-sentinels heard, but seeing what they saw, too. Fearing the worst, those behind this triggered the expendable units to shut me up”. 

She'd no sooner completed this explanation. The phoenixes phase back outside. Each bio-sentinel collapses unconscious upon command deck. She again raises two glowing hands dictating. 

“What now?” 

“Simple, Deputy Director Mariah. Now, you must simply deprogram them. And these people can resume living happy, healthy, productive lives again”. 

Dragon Phoenix instructs her children dictating, “Destroy those impostures in the X-Jet and their allies attacking this helicarrier to reignite a war between humans and mutants”. 

Fury and Mariah share a pensive moment, unsure how to process those orders. The phoenixes shriek savagely phasing outside the carrier's hull. The dragons and phoenixes join together in attacking the X-Jet and their allies. 

“Director,” she cautions him one last time, “choose a place to land and don't delay. My children will keep you afloat 10-minutes. Find somewhere and land, if not you'll crash. Your deaths will be on your own heads. Not mine. I've done my part. I have a greater threat I must deal with”. 

“What greater threat?' 

“Over 150 Mark-14 sentinels are headed this way. As you know, these units are supposed to hunt and kill mutants, deemed global threats. Unfortunately, these units' AI were damaged or tampered with, because they're descending upon this city targeting both humans and mutants alike. I must stop this massacre, before we destroy ourselves”. She vanishes before their very eyes. 

Mariah opens her mouth. Fury perceives her most likely objection countering, “Help comes in many shades, Roxy”. She concedes his point with a nod, before leaving the bridge. 

Twists and Turns

She'd served under him long enough. Fury didn't dare interrupt his counterpart's mental debate. Her greatest fault was her unparalleled hatred of all mutants. 

“Sir,” Romany dreaded coming between them, “you're being requested on Directorate-7 Shadow Line. It's them”. 

“I'll take the call inside black-ops,” he leaves the command deck, takes the elevator down three decks, turns right and heads down a longer narrow corridor. Crew notice his rank and urgency in his gait clearing a way. Fury storm into the black-ops room sealing and soundproofing the room. 

Twelve monitors comes alive. All at once. Fury takes his position near the conference table's foot. Standing aloof, almost relaxed. Hands interlinked behind his back. His eyes rake the silhouetted avatars projected upon each monitor. “What can I do for this committee?” 

“We received disturbing reports about a preemptive attack against your helicarrier,” Saran Maddox, Chairman of Committee-X, opens this briefing. 

“That's correct”. Fury doesn't deny the obvious. 

“How extensive is your damage, Director?” Franklin Howard poses the next question. 

“300 dead. Triple that MIA. We took heavy damage during the attack. Our western section, decks 11-22, are gone; decompressed during battle. Living quarters, special witnesses under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection, even Captain America, Thor, Hawkeye, and Iron Man are MIA at this point”. 

“Sources say, the X-Men led this attack,” Phlip Blackburn preens. Every avatar vanishes, replaced by videos of Wolverine piloting the X-Jet spearheading this attack, backed by stolen F-22s and F-35s. The videos ends, replaced again by each committee' member's individual avatars. 

“We observed the same thing...” 

“But...” Lance Reuben leaves his question hanging, sensing the director's reserve doubts. 

“There's some doubt about that video's veracity”. 

“Like what?” Joanne Valentino scoffs. 

Fury pulls out a thumb drive, “May I?” 

“Go ahead,” all committee members humor him. 

Fury inserts the drive into the black-op's mainframe. A video auto-executes. Committee members observe the Dragon Phoenix's arrival on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. 

“Jean Grey?” Katheryn Shaw rasps in shock and surging fear. 

Fury pauses the video. 

“Impossible,” Saran Maddox seconds her colleague's doubts. “She's dead”. 

“I don't doubt that. We indeed neutralized the Dark Phoenix”. 

“Then, Director, who's this young woman?” Franklin Howard demands a direct answer. 

Fury simply presses play waiting. The Dragon Phoenix responds for him, “I'm Jean's daughter”. He pauses the video again. 

“Daughter?” All committee member chime together. 

“What's her name, Director?” 

“I don't know”. 

“Don't know?” Katheryn Shaw deadpans. 

“What kind of Director are you?” Phillip Blackburn asperses, having never encountered such open dereliction of duty or pure incompetency. Even he couldn't decide which? Maybe both? 

“A damn good one,” Fury attest his proficiency. “My record speaks for itself”. 

“Maybe our definitions are different...” 

“Point is,” Fury interrupts Councilman Reuben's rebuttal, “my carrier was under heavy assault. Several key systems sabotaged. By who? We didn't know. Yet. But, we do know bio-sentinels...” 

“That impossible,” Saran Maddox refutes his outlandish claim, “the bio-sentinel program was shut down a decade ago, and all units destroyed, per U.N. Directive § C7.23.45”. 

This So Isn't Your Style

“Well, Madam Chairman, please explain what these are,” Fury fast forwards this same video, where several crew members jump up. Their movement undeniably modal and eyes glossed over and flashing crimson red. Their right forearm's skin peels back. Fresh blood runs down that limb pooling beneath their feet. The pain didn't even register in their minds. Class-13 laser rifles protrude out those same arm. Fury again pauses the video. 

This revelation renders every committee member speechless. For nearly two minutes. Finally, Lance Reuben breaks the silence probing his actions, “Did you destroy these abominations?” 

“No, Sir”. 

“No? And why not?” All committee members shared Lance's outrage over him disregarding such a precedential ruling. 

“You've seldom disobey this committee's explicit orders and, when you do, there's always been a damn good reason. That's the only reason you still hold your post”. Maddox gives her subordinate the benefit of her doubts.

“You'd best start explaining yourself, and quickly, Mr. Fury,” Joanne Valentino drives home their chairman's point. 

“Very well,” he didn't bat an eye under pressure. “The mutant, Jean Grey's daughter, said she could cure my people. Our directive is built upon the assumption they're beyond help. She knew about my agency's involvement in her mother's death. And yet, she still saved this helicarrier; not to mention how many lives below had we crashed into the streets of that bustling city”. 

“What are you doing about your situation?”

“The only thing we can, at this point, Councilman Howard,” he replies curtly. “We'll land near the bay. EMTs are sweeping all decks and sections recovering our wounded and death. Maintenance crews have already started the necessary repairs. They'll be able to work more efficiently, when this boat's resting on solid grounds, not about to fall out the sky”. 

“Our scans reveal heavy engine damage,” Katheryn Shaw states. 

“How are you still airborne?” Joanne Valentino only asks what's on her colleagues' minds. 

“Phoenixes are carrying us,” he deadpans. 

“Phoenixes,” more than a few committee members scoffs. 

Fury wasn't intimidated the least bit riposting, “You saw how they phased our hull, when she first arrived. He presses play resuming the video. “Here,” he narrates the creature's actions, “they phased these 'bio-sentinels' saving their lives, even shared how we can treat their conditioning”. He pauses the video, again, asking, “What's so hard to imagine about them being capable of upholding this helicarrier til we could land”. 

“This mutant has you snowed really good, hasn't she, Director? This so isn't the level of proficiency we expect from you”. Saran Maddox contemns his recent gullibility. 

Err On This Side Of Caution

“My motto is simple,” he denounces her adjudication. “I'd rather err on this side of caution, than act on presumption making myself and this agency laughingstocks within global intelligence”. 

“Director, you're close to insubordination,” Saran Maddox charges him with teeth gritted. 

“Maybe so, Madam Chairman. If so, I apologize, and beseech your indulgence. Truth is. You caught us when tensions are still riding high over this unprovoked attack. Also, even you must admit, we may have started this briefing on friendly terms, it hasn't stayed that way. Tempers are flared on both sides, yours and mine. Your pointed questions and accusatory undertones are more characteristic of an official inquest, preceding filing official charges against the accused. So tell me, who are you accusing, and, if so, then what's he/she/they being charged with?”

“Fair enough,” Saran Maddox concedes his point. 

“Do you trust this mutant?” Phillip Blackburn evokes an honest answer. 

“If you mean Jean Grey's alleged daughter, I must be honest. No, I don't. Any good spy lives by one fundamental truth. In war, we must sometimes work with even our worst enemies; even so, you never turn your back on them, even under the best of circumstances”. 

“Do you trust any mutant?” Franklin Howard senses something deeper behind that statement. 

Fury, too, senses his ulterior motive behind this question. Rumor was, Howard backed Stark and Trask in building these Mark-14 sentinels. “There's no denying two scientific facts. Both humans and mutants co-exist on this planet. Each species consider themselves superior, and perceives the other an imminent threat. Truth is, mutants are humans, too. Only a gene mutation and unbridled fear divide us. And besides, the world isn't always so black and white. S.H.I.E.L.D. employs mutant squads on select assignments, deemed too dangerous for human agents”. 

“Do you perceive humans inferior unto these mutants?” Lance Reubens probes the intent behind his noncommittal reply.

“Not at all,” Fury squashes such nepotistic insinuations. “I made my position known quite clearly, last time when trouble started between humans and mutants. Both species have their our strengths and weaknesses. We can do certain things they can't; and vice versa. Why argue and fight among ourselves, when we could utilize these differences to benefit both species, and make the world a safer, better place”. 

“Get ready, Director, I'm about to test your diplomatic stance”. 

“How's that, Madam Chairman?” 

“We, and by we, I mean this whole committee, don't believe this mutant saved your helicarrier out of the goodness of her heart. She had an ulterior motive”. 

“Oh, I don't doubt that. Not one bit”. 

“Say what?” Phillip Blackburn stutters, not believing his own ears. 

“And why's that?” Joanne Valentino shared her colleague's concern. 

“Simple,” Fury doesn't miss a beat. “She told us why she saved this boat”. He rewinds his video pressing play again. He waits several seconds pausing it. “See. She noted over 150 Mark-14 sentinels malfunctioning, launching themselves, and headed this way to slaughter both humans and humans, alike. She hoped we could help stop this massacre, I assume, before this incident ignites another war between mutants and humans”. 

“Have you?” 

“My bridge crew is landing the helicarrier near the bay. Two-thirds of my people are busy with any necessary repairs. A third are busy probe these sentinels' premature activation”. 

“What'd they uncover?” 

“I haven't received their reports yet. Dr. Amanda Warshire's spearheading this operation and will debrief me when I'm done here, Madam Chairman”. 

Stating The Obvious

Another silhouette appears behind Saran Maddox's chair. He couldn't make out the speaker's face or hear what's said. Volume muted on her end. Saran accepts the paperwork primping, “Relax, Director, we're not done here. My people's just a little more efficient than yours, because I already know what Dr. Warshire will inevitably uncover”.

Fury had some reservations over this boast. His curiosity, though, wins out in the end. “And what will that be, Madam Chairman?” He challenges its veracity, indirectly. 

“Simple. Our tech discovered, someone hacked Trask Industries' R&D mainframe last night around 2:43 a.m. Those responsible, no doubt, intended on acquiring these sentinels' operational codes, quite possibly to start a war between humans and mutants. You see, these hackers didn't realize our protocol. Trask Industries and Stark Industries may've built competing Mark-14 sentinels. Only American DOD and S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed Operation Final Freedom's activation codes”. 

“Damn, I didn't know that,” Fury admits being blindsided. “What else did your techs happened to uncover, Madam Chairman?” 

“Would you believe this breach of security didn't occur, til that mutant boarded your helicarrier?” 

“That's impossible, Madam Chairman. We detected the sentinels' activation 20-minutes, prior to her arrival on my bridge”.

“No, Director, you didn't”. 

“Excuse my bluntness, Madam Chairman, what did my techs detect then?” 

“Much of that information is still classified, and above even your clearance level. Suffice it to say, the Mark-14s are built with next-generation stealth tech. Each sentimental launches decoy beacons masking its own unique energy signature. Ask yourself this. Did your mutant savior say where she was headed after leaving the helicarrier?” 

“Only to save other mutants, Madam Chairman”. 

“Not likely,” Phillip Blackburn condescends. 

“What aren't you telling me, Councilman Blackburn?” 

“Only this,” Kathryn Shaw poses the committee's allegations, “we know where your mutant is most likely heading”. 

“Where?” 

“Xavier Institute,” Lance Reuben replies. 

“Are you making the connection yet, Director?”

“Indeed I have, Madam Chairman,” he puts the pieces together. “She never intended on saving us, only delaying, til her pals could acquire these sentinels' operational codes. It took longer than expected. And she was forced to save us, to save themselves and salvage their mission”. 

“Now that's stating the obvious,” Saran Maddox applauds his incisiveness. 

Fly In The Ointment

“One thing still bothers me, though”. 

“What's that, Director?” Joanne Valentino amuses him, though already suspecting his objection. 

“Why would these mutants go through all this trouble, only to activate the very machines designed and programmed to hunt down and kill them, only to lose control? I mean, if they possess these units' operational codes, why don't they use them? Problem solved”. 

“Good thinking,” Franklin Howard admits. “That same point puzzled us, too, til we learnt about something else”. 

“What's that, Councilman Howard?” 

“Let me first ask you something. Where's your witnesses?”

“As reported earlier, Madam Chairman, that section of the carrier decompressed sucking everyone out on decks 11-22's western sections, including Captain America, Thor, Hawkeye, and Iron Man. I can only assume the worst at this time. Why do you ask?” 

Chairman Maddox types furiously on her keyboard. The helicarrier's AI overrides the black-op room's lock down protocols. The doors behind him wisp open. 

Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, and Hawkeye amble inside the black-ops room dumping sludge over the conference table. 

“What the hell's the meaning of this?” Fury protests their actions.   
The helicarrier's AI re-initiates tighter lock down procedures than ever. 

“Fury,” Iron Man accosts him, “you sent us into that section. We damn near lost our lives. And over what?”  
“My witnesses...” 

“Nothing but sludge,” Captain America, Thor, and Hawkeye reiterate their partner's outrage. 

“What...” Fury stammers, “Were these sythezoids?” 

“Don't think so,” Iron Man discounts that possibility. “Very close, but more like synthoids. Whoever built these things certainly studied but didn't understand Arnim Zola's handiwork's intricacies ”. 

“Who'd do something like this?” 

“Answer me this, Director. Who put those people into protective custody?” 

“Possible herself put hers and her partner's families into our protective custody, before lapsing into a coma, after WEE attacked their homes”. 

Beyond A Shadow

“I'll humor you, and cede she did,” Saran Maddox plays along making her case. “Who transported hers and her partner's families aboard the helicarrier, after the hospital attack?” 

“Aurora Knight”. 

“Where's she now, Director?” 

“Dead, I assume, Councilman Reuben”. 

“Why?” 

“Someone in the bay shot down her car with a Trident II thermonuclear missile, Sir”. 

“Impossible!” Phillip Blackburn casts more doubt on his testimony. “Hundreds would be dead, and thousands more dying of radiation poisoning; not to mention, leveling two-thirds of this city”. 

Fury closes his last video clicking a secondary link. He plays the last conversation with his agent in the field, Aurora Knight. A video pops on screen showing a missile headed towards her 1994 Jaguar. He pauses the video zooming in. 

Committee members stare mesmerized into their individual monitors. Someone did indeed launch a Trident II thermonuclear warhead over New York. 

Fury shares a little more bad news, “That class missile can only be launched by Ohio and Vanguard class American submarines”. 

“Which would imply, neither you nor these mutants launched that missile,” Joanne Valentino muses the possibility. 

“Let's set aside this issue. For now. We don't harm our own. I ask you this. Why would anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. launch that missile, which could not only kill one agent but thousands of others as well as costing millions of dollars in property damage, and easily be traceable back unto this very carrier? Now let's examine the flip side. Why would a mutant kill our agent, when her murder would only serve to alert us faster about this security breach?” 

“It'd seem, we have a third party wire-working us all: mutant and human,” Katheryn Shaw surmises over what she'd learnt thus far. 

Saran Maddox cuts her eyes sharply. Luckily, no one could see this. “That changes nothing”. 

“I beg to differ...” 

“You didn't let me finish, Director,” she reproves him sharply. “We've already identified this 3rd party”. 

Beyond A Shadow, Too

“Who's responsible, Madam Chairman?” 

“American Cyber Security Intelligence Agency (CSIA) probed this breach, even examining the Possible and Stoppable family computers. Both residences possess state-of-the-art Pentagon-grade security, designed by three children: one who possesses six Ph.D.s. American DOD called in Area 99. Normal techs couldn't decipher their security, augmented with Lorwardian tech. And yet, someone not only breached, but sabotaged their defensive grid”. 

“Sounds more like an inside job,” Fury poses one possibility. 

“Our thoughts exactly, Director,” Phillip Blackburn concurs with his observation. 

“Possible quit the family business and joined S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Lance Reuben proposes one scenario. 

“Her brothers and tech guy may have viewed her actions, as the ultimate betrayal. So, they...” Franklin Howard discusses the rest of their theory. 

“What are you insinuating? Her brothers and tech geek called WEE?” 

“Exactly”. 

“For what, Madam Chairman? Revenge?” Fury scoffs the very nonsense. “Look, I've read these twins' bios. Both have pranked their sister in the past. Killing her seems beyond their repertoire”. 

“We doubt they wanted her dead, only punished”. 

“Councilwoman Valentino, why would they deactivate their own home defense? Then contact WEE, theirs and their sister's mortal enemy? Ran by Gemini, who wants their sister dead”. 

“Look,” Saran Maddox's rebuke dripped with venom, “we're not saying their actions are logical. These kids may be smart in book learning but definitely immature. Who knows why they did what they did?” 

“Are you sure, Madam Chairman?” 

“Beyond a shadow of doubt,” she assures him. “The CSIA recovered numerous emails and chat logs between the twin's and Dr. Wade Load, Team Possible tech geek. Apparently, the twins admit to being intellectual mutants, as does Dr. Load. The Stoppable family were pulled into this over this son's past affiliation with the girl. Dr. Load wiped his computer, but missed a single log. It proves him contacting WEE six hours preceding of the attack on her home. A mutant, he sided with her brothers perceiving her joining us as the ultimate betrayal”. 

“Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, and Captain America have agreed to apprehend these terrorists”. 

“What about Wolverine and Cyclops?” Fury proves his superiors' intent. 

“Bring them all in for questioning,” Saran Maddox demands the Avengers. 

“Madam Chairman, we have an issue”. 

“What's that, Fury”. 

“Jean Grey's daughter destroyed the X-Jet and their allies. We all know, even Wolverine couldn't survive an explosion of that magnitude or fall from that altitude. The helicarrier's AI auto-accessed the nearest satellite upon your mentioning Xavier Institute. Here's something very interesting”. A video link pops on the main viewer. Professor Xavier, his X-Men (Cyclops and Wolverine, too), and younger students stood outside the school watching Jean's daughter. “They can't be here, and there, at the same time. That's impossible even for them, Madam Chairman”. 

“How do I know,” she snaps brusquely. “Those here could've been clones. Bring them all in, no questions asked. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Ma'am,” Captain America pledges his teammates' cooperation.


	9. Wrinkle In The Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her brothers and Wade are framed. SHIELD's Shadow Committee believe they're responsible for hatching an international plot for plunging the world into WW-III. Their first step would be launching 150 sentinels. Chairman Maddox pulls rank on Fury enjoining Captain American, Thor, Hawk Eye, and Iron Man with bringing in these fugitives--The Possibles, Stoppables, and Loads, but especially Wade and the tweebs. How can she protect her brothers without harming heroes?

Royal Rumble

The Dragon Phoenix soared high above Xavier Institute. She dives sharply landing and taking a seat back upon her throne. 

“Dragon Phoenix,” Luna—really Jayda under a new name—alerts her owner, “the sentinels leaving Stark and Trask Industries have slowed their approach”. 

“Calculate time to arrival, Luna?” 

“56-minutes, Dragon Phoenix,” Luna responds. 

“About the same time those from Iroh Base arrives,” she smirks knowingly. “It'd seem someone wants to maximize this attack, and make sure there are more casualties, than if attacked in waves”. 

“We have unsolicited company racing this way, fast, My Queen,” the assertive panther alerts her about their situation. “Four men, and based on their black auras, profuse sweating, rising stress levels, and elevated heart rates coupled with blood pressures, it's obvious they have aggressive intentions”. He sniffs the air scratching the ground indicating their direction of approach. 

The Dragon Phoenix perceives their approach, too. She howls with thunderous laughter and simply points. Her beastly subjects somehow discern what she intended each to do. 

20 fiery dragon and phoenixes apiece leaps into the air. Wings outstretched. Screeching way more savagely than ever. Soaring high above the school. Their eyes locked down upon the intruders skulking near the school. Every beast dives sharply only picking up speed and screeching louder with closing proximity. Claws deployed. 

Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, and Captain America stop dead in their tracks peering furtively into the crestfallen sky. They move closer together forming a wide circle. 

Iron Man activates his suit's blasters, ready for trouble. 

Thor twirls his hammer summoning lightning. 

Hawkeye readies his latest explosive arrow. 

Captain America hugs his shield tighter. 

The dragons and phoenixes close even faster spewing black fire. Forty column sear all the earth roundabout driving their prey closer together. 

Iron Man blasts the nearest beast. Its fiery exterior easily absorbs every megajoule, as did every beast thereafter. Even his sonic blasts did little more than irritate these fierce predators. 

Thor observes these beasts' only exploitable invulnerability. He twirls his hammer commanding lightning. A bolt streaks across a clear sky striking a dragon. The creature cries in deep agony losing altitude but regaining its composure and altitude rather quickly. He twirls his hammer faster than ever calling several bolts simultaneously. Multiple streak flash across the open expanse. Each phoenix move in front its dragon companion easily assimilating 500-1,000 megajouls per strike. Each phoenix grows bigger and stronger, while its dragon companion feels no pain.

Hawkeyes proves little help. The beasts' body temps explode off the scales. His latest arrows simply dissolve into nothing, long before impacting their intended targets. 

Captain America couldn't get too close either without suffering severe burns or possibly death. His shielded sadly afforded him minimal protection against their fiery attacks. His shield simply passed through both species when thrown as a projectile. 

Dragon Phoenix rears back her head laughing in open mockery. She speaks verbally mimicking their beastly shrieks. Mutants nor humans understood what she'd said. The phoenixes and dragon apparently did. All encircle the heroes increasing their velocity trapping them within and siphoning the oxygen beneath their fiery column. 

Captain America, Thor, and Hawkeye drop their weapons collapsing upon their knees. Each grasps his throat gasping harder for each breath. Chests getting tighter and lungs razing with exertion. 

Iron Man knew he could best help them by getting reinforcements, before he too succumbed unto oxygen deprivation. He ignites his hand and boot rockets. A lone phoenix sinks its talons into ripping off his suit's chest plate. Iron Man's rockets sputter a bit losing lift. His skin starts to peel with overexposure to direct heat. Iron Man kills his rockets and surrenders. Escape was no longer a viable option. He, too, succumbs to oxygen deprivation collapsing with his companions. 

“Bring them here,” Dragon Phoenix thunders. 

The fiery column dissipates, each man inhales sharply as much oxygen as his lung could take in. A fiery phoenix grasps a hero apiece. Their companions swarm around them ensuring nothing goes wrong during transport. Her 'carrier phoenixes' drop their packages in front her throne. 

Dragon Phoenix couldn't leave anything to chance. She immobilizes and encapsulates them within separate infinity bubbles, induces a dream-like state probing their minds, individually, and learning all three were really Hydra agents incognito, even where their counterparts were being held against their wills, and knew she needed them present before questioning these impostures.

Hiding In Plain Site

Rescues were always tricky, even under ideal circumstances. Any number of things could go wrong, and often do. No one can account for everything with so many unforeseen variables. Even so, she knew she must try. An hour didn't leave much time, and only complicated matters worse. 

Dragon Phoenix simply raises both hands dissipating before their very eyes. There one minute, and gone the next. Storm clouds continued to brood overhead, and predators prowl nearby. 

 

“Wolverine, what going on?”

“Be of good cheer, Wolverine,” the lion king assuages his doubts. “Dragon Phoenix must liberate some humans, who are being held by those behind this sentinel attack, and maybe be able to stop this war between humans and mutants, before it starts”. 

“Logan?” 

“Sorry, Chuck,” Wolverines rubs his neck. “This lion says...” 

“The lion?” Rogue cocks a brow. 

“Furball walks and talks, even designed, built, and repairs our X-jet, when necessary, and we don't question his capabilities,” Wolverine defends his own sanity. “Why's it such a leap of imagination to believe this lion told me something about his mutant queen?” 

“Point ceded, Logan”. 

“Thank you, Professor. Her name's Dragon Phoenix”. 

“What's she doing?” 

“She's leaving to rescue some humans, she suspects, may be able to stop this war before its starts. What do we do in the meantime, Professor?” 

“We wait”. 

“No one asked you, leopard breath,” Logan growls, still not accustomed to hearing animals voices in his head. 

“We wait, Logan,” Professor X sides with his furry companion. 

“I was afraid you'd say that,” Wolverine grumbles loudly walking away, mumbling under his breath. 

Setting Up A Diversion

Dragon Phoenix soared high above, concealed by the darkness, mapping Mount Middleton's lowest depths. She knew, this secret initiative, registered as Eon-A-Core Research International on public documents, in reality, was a Hydra front. A private corporation set up theoretically study Serenity Oasis' current treatments' effectiveness, and devise newer better ways to assist patients. If true, their director wouldn't have partnered with Stark or Trask Industries, to build a very crude but effective subterranean research facility somewhere beneath Mount Middleton's northern slope. 

Secret memos allege, this particular establishment specializing in the creation of bio-sentinels. What's more interesting? Financial records prove, Trask Industries funded 70% of this operation, and that Stark Industries, for whatever reasons, had only recently contributed the rest. Maybe that's why this place'd only been operations for less than two months. 

Even so, instincts told her, those behind this place were responsible for those bio-sentinels back on the helicarrier, especially with Serenity Oasis, a CARF accredited rehabilitation center, located topsoil. She couldn't help but ponder, 'Maybe that's why whoever's behind this mess brought the heroes here? She'd scanned the impostures' minds, pieced together the melee of memory engrams, and constructed this place's most probable layout. 

The installation was divided into four main areas: (1) labs, designated area where certified scientists vet patients' blood work and bio-metrics for choosing potential candidates, (2) rehabilitation, temp housing to condition chosen patients, while recovering from injuries, (3) OR, surgical area to examine patients one last time, before implanting prosthetics necessary to control/trigger their new bio-sentinels, and (4) observation, special agents specifically trained and inserted where bio-sentinels work.

Judging by her sketchy schematics, the prisoner should be housed somewhere beneath the kitchen, located in the southern wing, dedicated for cripple and bedridden patients, seeking bot conventional therapy and experimental surgery to help these patient regain some mobility, or preferably walk again. 

Dragon Phoenix sets up her diversion signaling her children. Three phoenixes turn invisible phasing through the wall adjacent the southern wing's HVAC system. Their fiery bodies easily strips away its wires' insulation causing an electrical fire. A small puncture in its ventilation lets carbon monoxide to escape triggering the smoke alarms, and automatically alerting fire and local police. 

Dragon Phoenix sits back observing everyone. The majority of the medical personnel and members of the staff no doubt didn't know what research really transpired here. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, even visitors visiting patients jump in to assist with evacuating the southern wing. Thermal scans reveal its Senior Director, Dr. Cara Bartel, M.D., M.P.H., didn't bother checking on patients. 

Going Dark

Dr. Bartel knew, the cops, fire department, and ambulances would be there any minutes. She so dreaded their incessant questions. One wrong answer could blow everything. Our source even warned, Global Justice was on their way, too. 

A huge self-portrait hung behind her desk. She presses the right cheek pressing her eyes against the portrait's right eye. A retinal scanner verifies her ID sliding back the portrait face, only to reveal a large plasma screen behind. 

“Dr. Bartel, what's going on up there?” Dr. Simon Lazlo probes why she's calling so panicked. 

“Sir,” she salutes her C.O., “we suspect, our HVAC must've gotten clogged and overheated causing a fire. Black smoke continues to pour behind the walls inside the southern wing, and getting thicker by the minute. Administrative personnel and staff members are busy evacuating our patients, even as we speak. I suggest your people go dark completely”. 

“Understood,” he acknowledges Hydra protocols. “Going dark in 3, 2, 1”. Her screen goes dark. She turns, peering out her window, hearing the whine of first responders' sirens. 

*

Below. Dr. Lazlo couldn't simply press a single button to go dark. This place, though, small in size, compared with similar establishments, was relatively new. The problem, renovations weren't complete yet. Much of their equipment still hadn't been hooked back up, or else he could press that little magic button, and shut this place down in seconds. Not minutes. 

He contacts his head of security, “Rivera, assign three of your most trustworthy guards to secure our special guests, post two others outside their cell. Be ready to execute the prisoners, should I say so”. 

“I have just the men here, Sir”. 

“Cooper, Bailey, Kelly, you heard the commander. Back-up those already on duty. Now”. 

“Yes, Sirs,” all three salute, before leaving in single file. 

“Dr. Alvarez, Dr. Perez, Dr. Nguyen, and Dr. Young,” Dr. Bartel rings his department heads. 

“Sir,” all answer his call about the same time. 

“We have a fire in the clinic's south wing. Your sections must go dark immediately. Global Justice will be here running a battery of scans. We don't want to be detected, or we're all dead, as in D-E-A-D. Do you understand me?” 

All department heads instinctively grab their throats. Each felt their own existential mortality, now more than ever. “Give us one minute,” each reply with absolute certainty, “that's all we'll require”. 

*

Topsoil. Dr. Bartel gets her head back in the game. She knew local reporters and camera crews would be here anytime now. The director hiding in her office wouldn't look good in the public's eye. She must preserve both hers and this establishment's reputations, or this operation would be below, way before they got it off the ground and running good. 

Dr. Bartel rushes outside her office weaving her way towards the entry. She rounds the last corner jumping right in directing her staff and personnel's to move faster and with greater efficiency. In fact, she was busy helping carry a bedridden stoke patient down the clinic's front steps when local media arrived on-scene, maybe 30-seconds ahead of first responders. 

Fire Chief Edgar Reeves leaps off the fire truck recognizing the clinic's director, standing under the streetlamp asking, “Dr. Bartel, can you tell me what happened here? What might my men be facing inside your clinic?” 

“Some,” she could volunteer too much. “Our HVAC got clogged or something, causing a fire. Thick black smoke is pouring behind our southern wing's walls. That's why we evacuated these patients”. 

“Did you kill the gas and oxygen supplies?” 

She didn't know, whether it was one giant fire or several smaller ones, spreading rapidly behind her clinic's walls. “We didn't...” Her response was cut short. A blaze spills into the storage area. Sprinklers fail. Oxygen tanks start to heat up beyond safety limits. Their PSI continue to built til rupturing the first tank. Its detonation simultaneously triggers the rest only amplifying the yield. 

The resulting detonation knocks down several walls, shatters over twenty windows through that wing, even catapulting several ruptured oxygen tanks high into the air like ballistic missiles, scattering syringes, surgical scalpels, and other equipment abroad like shrapnel. 

Everyone ducks, covering their heads and eyes, til the blasts subside. Fire Chief Reeves grimaces, a plan already forming inside his head. “Listen up, a fire is spreading behind the southern wing walls. We still have patients inside, or I wouldn't send you inside there. Be forewarned,” he shouts over rippling explosions, “we don't know the fire's exact location, nor have the gas or oxygen supply been turned off. Proceed with extreme caution”. 

“Teams #1 and #2, inspect the building”. 

“The rest of you will treat patients outside, at least til EMTs arrive”. 

Reaching The Pit

Dragon Phoenix gleams over the ensuing chaos. Everything was playing out better than ever. The base was dark, which entailed, deactivating their usual perimeter defenses, too, only leaving the clinic's lone security guard, motion sensors, and cameras. 

A G.J. transport appears overhead without warning. Its turbines whine louder making a vertical landing. She sneers, seeing Dr. Director and her errand boy disembark, followed by four strike teams, locking down this place. 

Dragon Phoenix dives sharply accelerating her descent. She phases through the roof, 2nd and 1st floors, into the basement below, and continues into the detention cellblock. Heavily armed guards left little doubt. She'd definitely reached the fight place. Each dressed in military fatigues and carrying the latest assault rifles, grenades, tactical knives, and more, simply to secure the dungeon's perimeters. No one would go to such lengths, unless they had something major to hide. 

A prisoner must've somehow detected her presence. He jumped off his cot, grabbed his cup, and started beating it against his cell bars. He kept crying something in a foreign tongue. She understood what he said, but chose not to intervene. He provided the perfect distraction by enraging the guards and getting them focused on him. 

Colonel Kelly outranked Lieut. Alice Cooper and Corporeal Shelby Bailey. He'd given explicit orders, and expected the followed. To the letter. With no exceptions. Ever. 

“Pedro,” Col. Kelly shouts, backhanding the trustee/medic. He grabs his hair roots yanking his head back asking, “Did I, or did I not, order you to sedate all prisoners?” 

“I... I... di...did, Sir,” he stammers. 

“Then,” the colonel forcibly turns his lackey's head, “who's that?” 

“Prisoner C6-02T7E, Sir,” he responds. “He's been here so long. His body's grown accustomed unto the drugs. Nothing keeps him out long”. 

“Sedate him again”. 

“I can't, Sir,” bitter tears stream down his cheeks. 

“And why not?” 

“He's had his limit. For now. Anymore meds could kill him, Sir”. 

“Kill him, then. I don't care. Just shut him up, before that idiot alerts Global Justice we're down here,” Colonel Kelly thrusts the medic towards Cellblock F. “And you might as well check on our heroes, while you're there”. 

“Yes, Sir,” Pedro nods, scuttling quickly from the room. 

Making Her Move

Dragon Phoenix hovers behind the abused medic. He'd lead her straight unto their cell. He weaves his way through this bastille jungle reaching Cellblock F, housing Hydra's highest risk prisoners. Pedro open the black door. It creaks loudly upon its hinges. 

Prisoner C6-02T7E sensed his presence only growing louder. Beating his cup against his cell bars and cursing his wardens with every breath. Pedro opted against opening such violent prisoners doors. He loads an etrophine dart into his tranquilizer gun shooting him. Prisoner C6-02T7E grabs his chest and collapses, gasping for air til he quits breathing. Pedro weaves her way deeper into the cellblock's bowels dead ending outside Cell #712. 

“Halt there,” an older guards greet the prison medic, while his younger partner keep his rifle trained on them both, in case Pedro tried something. 

Pedro stood motionless with hands held high. Simply twitch and he's dead. 

“What are you doing here? Outside this cell?” The older guard demands a direct answer. 

“Colonel Kelly said, I should examine the prisoners”. 

“Very well,” the older guard walks around his younger companion, who kept his rifle trained on the trustee/medic. He unlocks the door stepping aside with a grin. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Pedro grasps the handle cautiously pushing the cell door open. Its hinges squeaked like a horror movie special. Pedro rolls his cart inside. The older guard closes the door shut behind him. Four younger guards stood in attention inside the cell.

She was invisible unto the naked eyes. Deploying her claw too fast could easily attract unnecessary attention. Dragon Phoenix deploys her talons very slowly. 

If they did make any sound, the guards were so busy observing the medics interaction with the prisoners. They didn't seem to hear or suspect her inside the cell. She lets the medic move closer. The guards only got jumpier the closer he got. The four move closer together. Guns cocked and loaded, trained upon and tracking this medics' steps. 

Now was the perfect time. Her opportunity to strike. Dragon Phoenix move with blinding speed. She swipes her claws decapitating all four guards. She confiscates a guard's tactical knife hurling it through the air. Pedro turns, in time for its tip to perforate his head. All four heads and Pedro's body thumps hard against the cell floor. 

Commotion inside the cell arouses the outside guards' suspicions. The older guard slides open the peephole. There prisoners were still secure. 

“Jack?” Nothing. 

“Brady?” Again nothing. 

“Amanda?” The silence and smiling prisoners become very disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Maggie?” He panics, hearing nothing but dead silence. Dead, being the operative word. He steps back signaling his partner. Both raise their firearms. Dragon Phoenix materializes inside the cell. Gold hue armor encapsulates her whole body. 7.62-mm and 5.56-mm rounds pierce the cell door ricocheting off her armor, shielding them. She picks the heaviest decapitated guard dropping his body. 

The guards outside hear his body thump loudly against his cell floor. Confident, they'd handled the immediate, seeing their prisoners still fettered against their cell wall. The older guard unlocks the cell, while his partner eases open the door. Both draw their assault rifles easing inside, but don't get far. A claw pierces their hearts, apiece. Both drop their firearm exhaling their last breaths, dead. 

Testing The Subjects

“Lady, just who the hell are you?” Tony Stark demands a direct answer. 

“Humph,” Dragon Phoenix spurns his question starting back towards their cell entrance. 

“Not that we don't appreciate what you've done,” Hawkeye conciliates. 

“Who are you, Ma'am?” Thor asks nicely. 

Dragon Phoenix turns back around so fast. Her red hair wafts across her right shoulder. She drops her golden armor grinning broadly, especially at Tony Stark. 

“No damn way,” Tony exclaims in deep shock. “Jean Grey”. 

“Who?” Hawkeye and Thor asks. 

“A mutant, who lost her way,” Captain America share his companions shock. 

“Lost her way, hell!” Tony scoffs. “She damn near destroyed the world by igniting a war between mutants and humans”. 

“Watch you mouth, Pretty Boy,” Dragon Phoenix deploys her claws scratching them along their cell wall, stalking towards him. Crimson cold eyes locked with his. Heart thirsting for his blood. “I warn you, say anything else negative about my mother...”

“Mother?” All echo at once. 

“...mother, and I'll do emergency plastic surgery on your face with my claws,” she strokes his left cheek without breaching the skin. “Defy me, and I'll drive twice and I'll drive them through your damn heart”. She drives them into the wall, millimeters from his heart. 

“You're not her, are you, Miss?” 

“Cap, what are you doing?” 

“Proving his superior intelligence, Pretty Boy”. 

“You're very perceptive, Captain,” she applauds him. “I'm not this Dark Phoenix, you all fear so greatly. Jean Grey was my mother”. 

“Children arise,” her eyes glowed crimson red and hair crackled with fiery intensity. Four fire birds phase through their cell wall gravitating towards them. All four prisoners struggle against their chains. Sure, they're dead. A phoenix phases each individual prisoner searching for any concealed prosthetics. 

Six minutes. All four cry in excruciating agony. Limbs twitching and body convulsing. Eyes locked with hers. Teeth gritted one moment, and cursing her the next, til each phoenix phases out its patient. 

“What's their condition, Little Ones?” 

“Dehydrated and malnourished, but no prosthetics, My Queen,” the lead beast replies. 

Dragon Phoenix levitates towards severing their chains. 

The rest were happy to be free again. Not Tony. 

“I assume,” he gets in her face, “there was a damn good reason for putting us through that, or are you just as sadistic as your mother?” 

Her children sense her ire glowing hotter than ever. Twenty more phase through the wall gravitating towards her antagonist. So full of himself, he didn't notice the danger. “No, don't,” she thunder with hands outstretched. Her children stop their advance immediately. 

Dragon Phoenix simply holds up her hand immobilizing his companions. She struts over matching his legendary cockiness. She retracts three claws sticking her right hand under his chin preening, “Do you realize how easily I could kill you? You shoot your mouth off, not realizing who you're upsetting”. She simply shoves him aside releasing his companions, too. 

Logic dictated, it was the wrong move. They'd only turn against her. Alas, they'd never get out here without their trinkets. She waves her hands bathing the room in light. Iron Man's armor, Thor's famous hammer, Hawkeye's arrows and favorite bow, even Captain America's infamous shield materializes beneath their feet. 

“By Oden's beard, how'd you get these?” 

“Let's just say Avengers' HQ isn't as secure as you might imagine,” she boasts. 

“Isn't secure?” Stark takes offense over her insulting his intelligence. "It's the most advanced system in this world. I personally..." 

“Advanced to you,” she brushes his ego aside. “Primitive unto me”. 

He was about to retort again. Dragon Phoenix didn't argue or threaten anyone. She simply waves around both her hands. A bright pastel light washes over them. Each man barely had time to shield his eyes. The light dissipates relatively quickly, revealing, she'd beamed them topsoil. 

“What the what...” Tony Stark gazes into the sky. Noonday was pitch black. 

“Oh, Blondie, tell Odin, Aconasema sends her love”. 

“By Odin's light, you cannot be her,” Thor greatly feared being in her presence. 

“Fine,” she didn't bother arguing. “Believe what you will. You four will come with me”. 

“What if we refuse?” 

“I kill all four here and now, or else thousands of innocent people will die, and it'll be all your fault, you pompous ass-wipe”. 

His companions smirk, doing their best to suppress their own laughter. She'd sure nailed him. 

Gravity of the Situation

“What do you mean by that wisecrack, Lady?” 

“When were you kidnapped, Mr. Stark?” 

“Two months ago. Why's that important?” 

“Simple really. Yours and Trask's companies scored joint contracts during your absence, tasked with designing and constructing different but complimentary Mark-14 sentinel models”. 

“And?” 

“Pay close attention. Here's the interesting part. Last night, someone hacked Trask Industries, learnt S.H.I.E.L.D. held these models operational codes, and today staged a mutant attack on the helicarrier”. 

“Oh, hell,” his cockiness fades, hand cupped over his mouth, swearing bitterly. 

“Now, you're beginning to see the gravity of this situation. A little”. 

“How bad are things, really?” Hawkeye inquires, half-expecting the worst news possible. 

“Right now. You could return unto your lives. S.H.I.E.L.D. blames three kids with breaking their security and instigating this mutant attack”. 

All four men start to leave. 

“However...” 

All four turn back around drawling, “Now what?” 

“However,” she smiles wittingly, “that won't last...long”. 

“What will they find, Miss?” Captain America shows her great respect. 

“Simple, Cap,” she snubs Iron Man. “Hydra inserted double agents in your places wielding very convincing replica Iron Man's armor, Thor's hammer, Hawkeye's bow, and special arrow-arsenal, even your shield, Cap”. 

“That sounds like major trouble,” Iron Man retracts his face plate. “For us four”. 

“And you'd be right, Mr. Stark,” she doesn't ease the blow. “I believe, your doubles are the ones behind leaking those sentinels' operational schematics and access codes”. 

“What'd they do with these codes?” Hawkeye shared his companions' uneasiness. 

“They've launched over 150 sentinels”. 

“Mission parameters?” Iron Man demands an immediate answer. 

“Eradicate New York City, every human and mutant there”. 

“Wait,” Stark shakes his head disputing, “that impossible. Such actions violates these sentinels core directive to preserve humanity”. 

“Your double made some changes during your absence”. 

“Like what?” 

“First, he removed all directives. Trask and your double decided, and I quote, 'A real soldier doesn't need a conscience, electronic or otherwise, only the capacity to follow orders'. Washington signed off, envisioning more efficient soldiers. Second, he installed A.I.'s in every unit built”. 

“Don't tell me...” 

“Sorry,” she shrugs her shoulders apologetically, “they're fully autonomous now. Mark 13s and below can still be shut down manually, but not Mark 14s and up. Their A.I.s can assume control over each unit, should their command signals be interrupted for any reason”. 

“Not good”. 

“Tell me about it, Pretty Boy. Whoever hacked these sentinels' interfaces triggered a war simulation, and shut down their command overrides. All A.I.s deduced this an act of terrorism frying their own control matrices, making it impossible to rescind their current mission objectives or trigger their fail safe self-destruct sequences”. 

“And we'll be blamed how?” All four ask about the same time. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. will put it together. Eventually. I suspect, a shadow committee member must be running interference, or you'd already be topping their list of suspects. Ask yourself why? And for how long will the continue this? Only one reason justifies you four still being alive. Strucker intended all along on you escaping, but as bio-sentinels, of course. He figured, you'd head straight home. You'd be arrested and promptly taken where?” 

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

“Bravo, Mr. Stark,” she lauds his getting serious finally. “As bio-sentinels, you could be activated whenever, wherever, Strucker chose. And where better than the helicarrier?” 

“We'd flip out and kill everyone there, or possibly crash the helicarrier,” Captain America describes the most likely scenario. “Hydra could get away scot-free. All evidence against them erased in the fiery crash, along with us. Dead men tell no tells”. 

“I know how we can diffuse their plans,” she boasts. 

“How?” All four listen with piqued ears. 

“I'm holding your doubles prisoners back at Xavier Institute. Trip them up and we can clear your names. They've been sent to arrest me, two innocent kids, and their parents. For your crimes”. 

“We'll help,” Thor pledges. “How can we assist?” 

“Stay in the background, and only come out when I call you”. 

“We'll do it”. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” she raises her hands beaming them outside Xavier Institute.


	10. Art of Positive Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim knew, the four heroes were innocent. She could rescue them easy enough. And yet, they'd still be fugitives, once their counterparts crimes went public. She couldn't allow this. It'd play right into Hydra's plans for starting this war between humans and mutants. She must get their counterparts to incriminate themselves.

Art of Deception

Dragon Phoenix reappears, taking her seat upon her throne. Iron Man, Thor, Captain American, and Hawkeye hide inside the school. Neither could believe his eyes. Their doubles hovers slight above the ground encased in some kind of bubbles. 

A phoenix apiece phases each bubble. Each creature breathes fire burning their feet. Their doubles immediately wake up screaming in immense pain. The phoenixes and dragon circled, re-erecting their fiery column roundabout her throne. 

*

Back aboard the downed helicarrier. “Director, we're being hailed”. 

“That's impossible, Romany! We're under a complete black-out”. 

“I know it shouldn't be possible, Sir. That still doesn't change the fact. We're being hailed”. 

“Who's clearance code, Romany?” 

The communications chief checks the authentication code. His eyes pulsate in shock mixed with terror. “You won't believe this, Sir. It's Scarlett Flame's”. 

“Put her through,” he turns towards the viewer expecting Scarlett Flame. 

Dragon Phoenix's confrontation with the fake Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, and Captain America pops across his command bridge's main viewer. 

*

“Lady,” Iron Man demands authoritatively, “what do you want?” 

“Answers”. 

“What's the question?” He ripostes with his usual cocky flare. 

“Aurora Knight's dead. Murdered by someone aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

“How can you even insinuate that?” Hawkeye disputes her claim. “A Trident missile can only be launched from Ohio or Vanguard class submarines. And that missile had American markings”. 

“Check the helicarrier's communications logs when you get back, and you'll discover, someone tried to wipe the last 24-hours, 12 hours before her death and 12-after. I'm here to tell you. They failed, quite miserably to cover their tracks. A covert signal was sent off the helicarrier, probably signaling that sub. The Trident II Missile was fired less than 30-seconds later. Its target undeniable”. 

“I still don't hear a question in there”. 

“Alright. Here's one, even a neanderthal, like you, Mr. Stark, should be able to answer,” she tempers his cockiness “Agent Knight's death was a distraction for something bigger, did you know that?” 

“No, I didn't,” Iron Man feigns ignorance. 

“Do you know what for?” Thor probes their defense. 

“Not exactly. I know this much. Whoever's responsible cared nothing about this city or its people. I diffused that warhead's radioactivity, or else they'd destroyed three-quarter of this city along with your precious helicarrier, and yourselves”. 

“I won't argue with that assessment,” Hawkeye sides with the mutant queen. 

“The city's safe,” Iron Man cuts his eyes sharply. “Now moving on”. 

“You evaded Thor's question earlier,” Iron Man probes why. “What do you know about that attack on our agent and helicarrier?” 

“Not much...” 

“Don't patronize me with such rhetoric. We gave you an honest answer. The least you can do is give us a straight answer, too,” Captain America's double turns the tables on their interrogator. 

Traitors Anonymous

 

“Alright. I believe, one of you,” she points between the four, “is a traitor, both unto S.H.I.E.L.D. and humanity, as a whole”. 

Iron Man eyes his companions uneasily, as do they, him. 

Seasoned spies, they weren't the least bit rattled by such groundless accusations. Nothing she said could undermine their trust in each other. What did worry them, collectively and individually? Their very lives hinged on S.H.I.E.L.D. and the world buying their covers. Such accusations could expose, making them liabilities unto Hydra. And that did worry them. A whole lot. 

“I trust these men with my very life”. Thor's doppelganger challenges her claim, “Where's your proof, Witch?” 

“Spoken like a true traitor,” she wasn't rattled, either. “Why are you here?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. suffered great losses over these mutants' preemptive attack against their helicarrier. Fury's bosses lost confident in their own agents, and summoned us. The best of the Avengers”. 

“Why?” 

“To detain you, the Possible twins, their parents, Dr. Wade Load, and his parents, and bring you all back aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier for questioning”. 

“In relation to what?” 

“The attack on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier, Agent Knight's murder, the attempted murder of Agent Kim Possible, and stealing classified INTEL, vital unto global security”. 

“You suspect, we stole these sentinels' operational code and launched them, don't you”. 

“Yes,” all four heroes replies with any hesitation. 

“Well, you're all idiots,” she pities they could be so gullible. 

“Why do you say it that way, Miss?” Hawkeye's double detests being treated so contemptibly. 

“Just think, Genius. Why would any mutants do that? Those machines are specially designed to hunt down and kill our kind. Any mutant deemed 'a justifiable threat'”. 

“That may be so, that changes nothing,” Captain America's double refutes her logic.

“Oh, really? How do you figure that, Cap?” 

“Quite simple really,” he doesn't lose a step. “Those sentinels are a necessary evil. You hacked their latest model, and have them attack both human and mutant. Public outcry would be so great. American DOD and governments worldwide would be forced to abandon their construction, or at the very last continue making them in secret”. 

“I figured, give you enough rope and you'd hang yourselves,” she smiles snugly. “And you did”. 

“How's that?” Hawkeye's double inquires what she might be pulling next. 

“How'd you know those sentinels are set to destroy both humans and mutants, alike. I only learnt about that less than 10-minutes ago”. 

“It's only logical...” 

“Don't play the logic card with me, Captain,” she rebukes him concisely. “I have over 100 televised interviews, covering high profile cases, where you express your opinion. Guess what? Never have you answered with such finality in your voice, as you just did. No, Cap,” she drives her point home, “you stated a fact, prior knowledge”. 

*

Director Fury notes this same character discrepancy. 

*

“The commit...” Thor's twin backhands Hawkeye's shutting him up, instantly. 

“Committee,” Dragon Phoenix echoes. “Now we're getting somewhere. That's surely explain how you bypassed S.H.I.E.L.D's lock down protocols getting aboard the helicarrier”. 

Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, and Captain America's doubles all chose the same. Keeping their mouths shut was the best option. They'd bug a big enough hole for themselves. 

Just Enough Rope

Dragon Phoenix wouldn't have this. She presses them for an answer; knowing, they'd have to reply, or look even more guilty, endangering their cover within S.H.I.E.L.D. and their lives with Hydra. “How did you get aboard? Not even Fury himself could do so under a Directorate-7 Lock Down. Deputy Director Roxanne Mariah would assume his duties until they'd resolved the crisis, which triggered this lock down in the first place”. 

Iron Man's double perceives her game. He knew, she had them cold. Answer her question and she could prove their guilt, but only as Tony Stark. Deny everything and they keep digging and possibly dig up their real identities. He loses his edge mumbling, “Saran Maddox buzzed us inside”. 

“Who told you to arrest us? The kids and me, I mean?” 

“Saran Maddox,” Captain America plumes without questioning her authority. 

“So, we're back unto the committee. Again”. 

All four spies grow wary over how she'd taken everything they'd said, no matter how carefully they answered, and turned suspicion back on the Shadow Committee. 

“What'd Dr. Amanda Warshire uncover?” 

Every man shakes his head avoiding eye contact. 

“Vigilantes! The best avengers, please,”' she degrades them. “Their standards must be really below par. Don't tell me, you didn't think to check that, did you?” 

“No,” Thor, Hawkeye, and Iron Man drawl, “we...” 

Captain America senses their voices imbued with uncertainty. And knew this couldn't end well. “We didn't get the opportunity,” he salvages this moment clarifying what they meant. 

“Cap, you can't have it both ways,” she exposes his flagrant perjury. “Either you did or didn't check, which was it?” 

“She's dead,” he blurts, not knowing what else to say. “Alright? Happy?” 

“I didn't know,” she lies outright. “When'd you learn about her death?” 

“About 3-hours and 30-minutes ago”. 

“Isn't that interesting,” there was that devilish grin again. 

“Why?” Iron Man sensed they'd messed up again. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier's been under a communications black-out over 5-hours. That not only proves you lied about how you learnt so quickly about Dr. Warshire's death, but insinuates you knew ahead of time who'd carry out, and did nothing to prevent her assassination”. 

Captain America's double looked pale under such scrutiny. 

*

Nick Fury grew madder by the minute. This mutant knew more what's going aboard his carrier than he did. Making matters worse, he couldn't dispute these questions' pertinence. 

Silence of the Guilty

His partner was in serious trouble. Iron Man jumps in his defense charging, “Woman, what are you babbling about now?” 

“Babbling, am I?” She counters him with mocking laughter. “Ask yourself. Who beamed that signal off the helicarrier?” 

“We don't know?” Thor's double feigns ignorance again. 

“I know you don't,” she baits him to learn even more. 

“I'm confused,” Hawkeye probes her motives, “why'd you ask us, if you already knew we're all innocent?” 

“I didn't say you're innocent or guilty, exactly. You may not know who sent that signal,” she gives them the benefit of the doubt setting up her next obstacle to trip them up. “You do, however, know who didn't, if you'd only use your brains”. 

“What's the supposed to mean?” Iron Man probes her line of reasoning. 

“Do you know the connection between Agent Knight and Dr. Warshire's murders?” 

“No,” all four heroes vow in chorus. 

“I do,” she preens again with a knowing grin. 

Her certainty quiets their objections, prompting them in chorus, “What's the connection?”

“Agent Knight suspected a mole within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s upper ranks. Dr. Warshire met her outside Dr. MacLain's lab. Agent Knight shared her suspicions. And that's why Dr. Warshire was being extra careful in examining the evidence concerning the attacks on the Possible and Stoppable residences, the hospital, even correlating what she uncovered with these sentinels' activation, and, believe me or not, stumbled upon the guilty party”. 

*

Fury lean forward in his chair. Praying she really knew, and wasn't simply bluffing. 

*

All color drains out the heroes' double's faces. 

“Aren't you going to ask who? Or do you already know?” 

Again. None dared open his mouth. Certain, she was bluffing to learn something else. 

“Alright,” their silence challenges her resolve, “Dr. Warshire re-examined that mysterious signal, beamed off the helicarrier 30-seconds before Agent Knight's death. She discovered, it originated in the sickbay, which has a separate communications array, so even during special quarantines, doctors can speak with the outside world without exposing the crew unto untold dangers. An unauthorized crew member, probably someones with engineering training, tapping into that secondary communications relay broadcasting their nefarious signal”. 

“What does that have to do with any of this?” Iron Man dispute its veracity. 

“Everything,” she connects the dots. “Saran Maddox told you. The Possible twins and Dr. Wade Load hacked the carrier....”

“How'd you know?” 

“Idiot!” Captain America's double backhands Hawkeye's double. 

“I didn't, til you just told me; which means, either she lied outright or was misled herself. We simply don't know which? Yet”. 

“What are you insinuating, Silver Tongue?” 

“Simple, Thor,” she boasts, catching them off guard again. “Agent Knight's still alive and hidden aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

*

“What the hell?” Fury jumps out his seat. 

“Security get busy. Comb every inch of this tub. She's alive on here. Find her, and when you do, bring her to me. She has some questions to answer”. 

“Yes, Sir,” the security chief salutes signaling those under his command, on every deck, and in every section, to get busy with their search

The Evidence Says Otherwise

“....Dr. Warshire's murderer(s) ransacked her lab. Do you care to guess why?” Again. The heroes' doubles opted against saying anything else incriminating. “I can tell you why. Dr. Warshire made a connection between that covert signal, and those falsified chat logs, Maddox's unnamed tech allegedly discovered on the Possible twins and Dr. Load's computers”. 

“So what if she did,” Iron Man's double retorts. Sure he had her this time. He didn't deny this claim, only denigrates its applicability here. “It proves nothing”. 

“Oh, you want us to believe this, don't you, Pretty Boy? The truth is, those very logs proves these kids innocence and mine, too. Based on your own testimony, Maddox alleged, the Possible twins had contacted WEE around 12-hours preceding their home invasion and sister being wounded”. 

“Sounds about right,” Captain America comments. 

“What's your point?” Thor's doubt seeks the connection, not seeing how this proves their pawn's alleged innocence. 

“Just this,” she smiles triumphantly. “I checked with the Possible's ISP, Middleton Digi-Tech, Inc. James Possible called customer service the morning before the attack complaining about problems with their internet service and cable. I know what you're thinking. They're geniuses, and probably hacked their ISP falsifying a customer complaint to give themselves an alibi. Only problem there, customers in the surrounding neighborhoods lodged similar complains. 

It seems, lightning damaged their network and storms downed lines across six counties. Here,” she waves work orders under their noses, “are the official work orders recording what repairs crews were dispatched to which neighborhoods, even listing the chief service tech's name overseeing the repairs. Derek Parker noted service restored at the Possible's residence 18-hours after WEE's attack”. 

“That other kid must be behind these attacks, then,” Thor's twin casts doubts on the next most logical suspect. 

Dragon Phoenix howls with abrasive laughter. Her prisoners grow wearier in her presence. “There's still a gaping flaw in your logic, Thunder God”. 

“What's the problem? Let me guess, he didn't have internet service, either?” Iron Man's dubious double throws something out, more in frustration, than defensive strategy. 

“Oh, he had internet service. Satellite, in fact”. 

“Then, where's the flaw?” Hawkeye's double questions her early proclamation. 

“Has Dr. Load ever been aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier?” 

“No”.

“You're being honest there, at least,” she congratulates him. “As said earlier, Dr. Warshire's killer(s) ransacked her office, but never found what they sought so desperately. I know what they sought, and possess it, even now”. 

“What's that?” Iron Man's double drops his head cursing loudly. 

“Dr. Warshire discovered a correlation between the attacks blamed on the Possible twins and Dr. Load, and the covert signal, beamed off the helicarrier. In fact, both signals possessed identical hacker digi-prints. Oh, someone tried really hard to match Dr. Load's style, but failed. Dr. Kristie Coltrane, the NSA's lead digital computer forensic tech, concluded the chat logs being forgeries and bearing an 85.7% similarity with that covert signal. She even postulated both signals, in fact, originated aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. The chat log simply routed through the Possible twins and Dr. Load's computers. As you said, Dr. Load was never aboard; therefore, he can't be behind those attacks on the Possibles, Stoppables, MMC, or this helicarrier”. 

“Then who?” Thor thunders in great anger. 

“I don't know,” she admits lack of evidence. “Dr. Coltrane speculates, whoever's behind this must have unrestricted Level-9-10 access or above, or he/she would've surely tripped an alarm or two in setting up this elaborate frame job”. 

“What else does the evidence say?” Captain America's double ripostes, sure he had her this time. 

“Only this, you're all impostures,” she deadpans, signaling the real heroes. 

Tony Stark as Iron Man strolls up beside her retracting his face mask. 

Steve Rogers, as Captain America, strove up beside her next. 

...followed by Clint Barton, as Hawkeye. 

...and Thor Odinson, as Thor, the Thunder God.

*

“What the hell?” Fury jumps out his chair. “Did I have spies inside my situation room?” Maybe this mutant was right. Saran Maddox never messed up this royally. She could be helping these traitors, even behind injured agents getting turned into bio-sentinels. 

The Final Stroke

“Take your prisoners, and leave, heroes,” Dragon Phoenix incapacitates their doubles. “Your names have been cleared, of all charges, and you don't have to worry about later being arrested for crimes committed by these spies in your names”. 

The real Iron Man, Hawkeye, and Captain America take custody of their doubles starting to leave. Thor turns with great concern inquiring, “What about those sentinels, Aconasema?” 

“Those inferior machines pose me no threat?” She illustrates her point by hoisting her right hand high into the air. Her children, thousands of Phoenixes and Dragons, takes unto the skies. Their fierce cries drives terror even unto the bravest hearts. She taps her scepter twice against the earth beneath their feet. A live 3D image materializes in thin air. 

“Luna, how many sentinels are airborne now?” 

“650”. 

“Where are they originating?” 

“Iroh Base, 200”. 

“Eon-A-Core, 100”. 

“Stark Industries, 150”.

“What?” The real Iron Man protests his company's involvement. 

“Trask Industries, 200”. 

“That figures with that power monger's insatiable bloodlust,” Stark belittle Trask, both the company and its owner, personally. 

“Are they still launching these sentinels, Luna?” 

“Affirmative, My Queen”. 

“Bring Dragoni-X laser grid online and destroy both Iroh Base and Eon-A-Core. Now”. The 3D hologram reverts to outer space. A military satellite moves into alignment, locks onto its target, and fires it weapon. A 200 megajoule laser pierces the skies over Louisville, NY, carving the earth with surgical precision. The laser perforates the armory triggering massive subterranean explosions. 

The ground grumbles with unparalleled ferocity. Pressure continues to build, til solid earth split opens beneath their soles, unable to contain the pressure any longer. Fiery miasma sweep throughout the cavern below obliterating everything solid and devouring all living flesh, leaving little but ash behind. The rumble only grows louder. 

Dragon-X fires a second beam, only amplifying its destructiveness. Solid earth opens wider swallowing even the largest structures, even bulldozers. The whole topsoil caves in leaving a giant crater where a thriving business once stood. Fiery miasmas shoot miles into the sky, as dust and debris hovers over the event horizon. 

“Verify Serenity Oasis is clear?” 

“All patients have been evacuated,” Luna confirms. “All four wings are empty”. 

“Fire”. 

Dragon comes into focus. A red X painted over the clinic. Dagon charges its orbital mega laser firing. A 200-megajoule beam pierces the skies splicing Mount Middleton asunder. The peak above the base craves up its rugged terrain boring deeper into the base underneath. Rippling explosion tears apart its automated plant. Half complete sentinels turn their weapons blasting one another unto bits. 

“Stark, you have 24-hours,” she warns him. “Continue making your sentinels, if you must. I don't care. Just make sure they don't attack innocent people, or I'll destroy your company as well”. 

Tony Stark simply nods. He knew, it'd serve no purpose arguing with someone this powerful. 

“Fury,” his face appears in her holographic display, “you have 24-hours. Get Trask Industries under control, or I'll level it as well. I don't care how. Just do it”. He goes to protest, only her creatures vanish in thin air. Even the sun acknowledges her departure removing its mourner's veil. Sun light shown bright in the early afternoon sky. 

Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, and Captain America leave without incident. Their prisoners in tow.


	11. Birth of A Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim assumes a more deified role, Dragon Phoenix, Jean Gray and Wolverine's daughter. First, she introduces herself unto the unsuspecting father, while Thor, the Thunder God, explains her origins unto SHIELD and its Shadow Committee

Descent Into The Catacombs

Professor Xavier and Wolverine reappears in the catacombs below. 

The Possibles and Stoppables gather around the duo. “Professor,” Anne speaks for the rest, “why are we down here?” 

“I wish I knew. Only...” A predatory screech silences him. Professor Charles Xavier and Wolverine whips their heads around. And there she stood. 

“The Dark...” 

“...Phoenix,” Jim rasps, backing away, terrified in her malefic presence. 

“I wish everyone would quit saying that! I'm her daughter! Not her!” She huffs, plowing her naked hand through a solid granite subterranean column. 

“Whoa!” Ron claps, impressed. 

“Calm down, My Dear,” Professor Xavier tries to calm her down. 

“Father,” she kneels, dropping her head, “I'm sorry...” 

“Father?” Wolverine knew she meant him. 

“I'm sorry...” 

“Father?” Wolverine spews back. Again. Only, with more contempt. 

“You must not remember? Mother hypnotized, and seduced you, as the Dark Phoenix. Later, she learnt she was with child, but didn't want an abortion. Why? I don't know. She chose a surrogate womb to carry me, Bella Herrera, Celesta Herrera's daughter, alias of Pamela Lilian Isley, a.k.a. Poison Ivy. Jean perished before my birth. Bella fled America settling in Mexico. The village doctor couldn't stop her bleeding. She perished of postpartum hemorrhaging (PPH). 

Father Jose Sanchez blessed my birth, not realizing my parentage. Poison Ivy fled with me, that nigh, even arranged my adoption by a nice Japanese family. At 9 years old, two men attacked my mother. No one ever told me about my mutant powers. I'd never accessed them, til that night. I lost control massacring those men. My mother grabbed me and fled, hoping no one could identify us. No such luck. Around 2:00 a.m., those men's friends show up at our home. 

They shot, and left me for dead, slaying the rest of my family: mother, father, three brothers, and two sisters; all dead. Inconsolable rage consumed me. That night, I tapped into my Phoenix powers massacring 300 elder gang members responsible. I was about to commit jigai, when Mariko Yashida found me. Everything in me wanted to kill her, too, til she mentioned your name. She understood my powers, assured me the world wasn't ready. I agreed, and let her put me into stasis inside my temple, where Kim Possible released me many, many years later”. 

“Wait. You know my Kimmie-Cub,” James Possible sounded genuinely surprised. 

“Yes,” she nods her head. “It's my fault she's hurt. I advised her, turn me in, tell authorities that she had found my temple. Sure, they'd resume hunting me. What'd really changed? The Yashida clan still have a price on my head, over killing so many of their people”. 

“Father, I share this now to builds some rapport between us. I don't want your pit. Facts are facts. You don't know me. Nor I, you. We're strangers. 

I don't hold a grudge, since you didn't know I existed til now. 

Mama, didn't want me, and threw me away, like yesterday's garbage, or so I thought, for so long. 

Surrogate mother, perished in labor cursing me with her last dying breaths. 

Adoptive parents murdered. Over me. A mutant. 

Mariko Yashida recognized the similarities in mine and the Dark Phoenix's powers. She put me in stasis fearing I'd become the next Dark Phoenix, or worse. 

“I guess, I'll take these people and leave”. 

Wolverine never said anything, only stood there, cold and emotionless, the whole time. 

She took his silence as her cue to leave, “We won't bother you or you friends any longer, Father”. 

“No, don't leave,” Professor X couldn't get an exact read on her. For whatever reason. Even so, he sensed her volatile emotional state and surging powers. He feared she might explode, like her mother, if not handled with care, “Kim Possible was iller than we initially suspected. Moving her earlier was risky enough. You had no choice then. 

You do now. And doing so again would surely kill this young woman. Dr. Possible did emergency surgery patching her internal bleeding. Leave her here, and we'll watch over her and these nice people. Handle what you must. You are welcome to come back to this school anytime you wish, My Dear”. 

“That will change,” she snaps indolently, “especially when you learn the true nature of mother and my powers. You never really understood them”. 

“Father,” her voice weak and eyes teary, “I'm sorry my being alive grieves you so. You hide your emotions well. I still sense your vexation. Mostly over me. I can't help I survived and Mama didn't. All I can say is, she sensed her end near, and did the only thing she could, given her situation. She knew, you weren't ready to be a father. Raising a daughter, who'd not only favor her but quiet possibly have her powers, would've brought us both endless persecution. 

People are always mistaking us. They imagined I'm the Dark Phoenix risen again to exact my revenge. Truth is, it hurts me to admit this. Mama acted wisely when she gave me away. My being raised here wouldn't surely opened too many wounds, and probably escalated with one or both you and Cyclops killing one another. 

Mother could've saved herself. Instead, she accepted her inevitable death. Hoping it'd help solidify the X-Men's bond endangered by Cyclops, yours, and her love triangle. She chose life for me arranging a surrogate mother. Admittedly, he didn't chose a solid role model. At least, she tried. She knew, my presence would only undermine what she was dying to protect. Maybe that's why you really hate me so sorely. And I can't say I blame you”. She vanishes in thin air. 

“Logan, she poured her heart out. Unto you. Why didn't you say something, anything”. 

“I don't know, Chuck”. Wolverine walks a ways, turns his head, and glimpses over his left shoulder, “I honestly don't know. My heart knew I should say something. My head gave me the words. My tongue simply froze. I need time to think, “he storms off, furious more at himself than anyone else. 

Taste of Betrayal

Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker sat behind his desk, inside his plush office. His phones wouldn't stop ringing. He'd only heard bad news. That mutant destroyed Eon-A-Core, Iroh Base, and 26 other Hydra bases worldwide, costing them nearly $300 billion in losses. It seemed odd, though. She only destroyed their hidden, secret bases, but left their corporate 'fronts' intact. He was currently hiding at Trask Industries, inside Trask's panic room. 

Mason Von Richter rushes inside the vault, snaps his heels together saluting, “Hail, Hydra, and its Supreme One, the only true Grand Imperator, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker”.

“What news do you bring me, Richter?” 

“Disturbing, I'm afraid,” he state bluntly, but with tact. “It seems, we may have celebrated that nosy S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agent's death too soon. Fury and half his people are tearing apart the helicarrier, as we speak, Great One”. 

“Is she still aboard?” Strucker slams his hands against his desk. 

Richter swivels his notebook computer pressing play. A video pops up on its tiny screen. The same video Fury saw, where this mutant declares S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight was alive. The time stamp proved this video being over two days old. 

“Why haven't I seen this sooner?” Strucker yells, peeved over being left out the loop.

Richter pauses the video, “Our people only learnt about its existence late yesterday”. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had this....this video,” Strucker putters with rage, “this whole time”. He yells that last part even louder. 

“Yes, Supreme One,” Richter nods. 

“Why didn't Maddox alert us? Don't we pay her enough?” 

Richter discerns his boss' ire. “This video will explain that, Grand Imperator”. He presses play. 

Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker listened very impatiently and only getting madder by the minute. This mutant, whoever she was, instigated their chief S.H.I.E.L.D. operative five or six different times with betraying Hydra, and what burned worse, he could refute her logic. He was irate especially with himself. Why didn't he think of these same discrepancies?

“It'd seem, Chairman Maddox didn't simply betray us. She's fed this mutant S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra INTEL. That'd surely explain how a lone mutant could deliver us such devastating blows. Find her, and bring her here. Today, Richter!” 

“Yes, Sir,” Richter salutes his Grand Imperator, before leaving. 

Sweetening The Deal

Dragon Phoenix answers her phone on the sixth ring, “Hello”. 

“Yes,” the caller on the other end sounded rattled, and quite unsure about this course of action. “I found this number inside my desk”. 

“Ah,” the receiver sounded mildly portentous, “Saran Maddox, or should I call you, Catalina Mercedes Madison, of 1313 Wildberry Road, Long Island, New York”. 

“How...?” Shock mixed with terror ties her tongue. Temporarily. She quickly regains her composure asking, “Who's this?” 

“Dragon Phoenix”. 

Saran pales over hearing that name. She'd already delivered Hydra so many crushing blows. Her boss, Supreme Hydra Strucker, believe she'd fed this mutant S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra INTEL. Now, her most hated enemy was her only hope for survival. “You must help me,” she implores. 

“Why should I?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D., Global Justice, American FBI, CIA, even NSA are all openly hunting me, and worse yet, so is Hydra, WEE, and League of Shadows”. 

“So what? Not my problem”. 

Saran nearly panics, opining, “The hell it isn't!” 

Dragon Phoenix laughs, amused by her mark's quip. Knowing, back her into a corner, she'd surely be more willing to cooperate in bringing down her bosses. Silence becomes golden. 

Saran Maddox defends her accusation, “S.H.I.E.L.D. never suspected my being a double agent, til your little broadcast. Mason Von Richter turned over this video unto his boss, Baron Wolfgang Von Struckers, Supreme Hydra of the Americas, earlier today”. 

“Why didn't you turn it over?” Dragon Phoenix pokes an open wound. 

“I couldn't,” Saran snaps coldly, “and you damn well know why. You implicated my betraying not only S.H.I.E.L.D., but Hydra's as well”. 

“Yea, I did,” Dragon Phoenix preens with great self-satisfaction. “Like I said, lady, why's that my problem?” 

Mounting pressure and head games left her feeling numb. She nearly panics again til rethinking her situation. This mutant wouldn't go through all this trouble setting her up and leaving her this lifeline, simply to throw her back to the sharks. She wants something, and she suspected what. 

She sweetens the deal offering, “I'll trade INTEL about three Hydra branches and their allies for protection”. Prolonged silence assured her, this Dragon Phoenix wanted, even expected, more. And she wasn't one to disappoint, “I have documentation, too”. 

“When and where?” 

Saran Maddox hadn't thought that far ahead. She'd been in near panic so long. She only cared about securing protection, though never imagined it possible. 

“Lincoln Wilshire's place”. 

“Excuse me,” a voice beacons behind sounding like an elderly lady. 

Wanted. And being openly hunted. Saran wasn't taking any chances, old lady or not. She'd heard over the grapevine, every federal intelligence and law enforcement agency, as well as local LEOs had strict orders: shoot to kill, and that didn't even take into account what's on Hydra's mind. She clicks her Glock 18 on full-auto whipping around, only no one was there. She turns back around. 

An invisible hand reaches out socking her jaw hard, leaving Catalina Mercedes Madison lying on the ground. Out cold. 

Dragon Phoenix transports her newest asset unto her secret base, securing her inside a soundproof cell adjacent Jack Hench's. 

Startling Revelation

Iron Man, Hawkeye, Captain America and Thor march single file onto the command bridge. 

Fury acknowledges their arrival adjuring, “Report”. 

“Not here,” Thor insists, not yielding, even under Fury piercing lour. 

The helicarrier came many black rooms. Each possessed different levels of security. “Where?” Fury inquires, gauging this situation's seriousness by their tones and various micro-expressions. 

“Odin's throne,” Thor snaps, offering nothing else. 

Fury wasn't sure what worried him more: (1) Thor's usurpatory attitude or doing so in connection with mentioning his father's throne, which he'd never tried to take, or (2) the fear hidden behind those cold, dark eyes, which are usual so friendly and inviting. 

“This way,” he realized this was beyond serious. Maybe world shattering serious. Fury leads them into the helicarrier upper level through mazy corridors, populated by security camera, sentient drone guards, bio-metric scanners, and countless security vault doors, dead-ending inside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Level-10 Omega Situation Room. (The most secure room on the helicarrier). 

He barely steps inside, but comes to an abrupt stop, rasping, “Scarlett Flame? What the hell are you doing in here?” 

“Dragon Phoenix saved me, but not my car, staging my death”. 

“Why?” 

“She said, my death would set certain things into motion”. Fury lour demanded more detail. “I don't know who or what, Sir. She didn't elaborate, only my death would prompt select S.H.I.E.L.D. moles to make their moves. Actions, which, if not taken, would upset this Dragon Phoenix's plans, whatever they may be”. 

“Care to listen? Now?” Thor matches Fury iconic lour. 

He seal the doors behind gesturing towards available chairs, taking his place ahead to table. 

“Alright, Thor,” Fury opens this inquiry, “what has you so rattled?” 

“Her,” Thor pounds clenched fists against the conference table. His companions turn their eyes upon the only woman in the room. 

Not Fury. Instincts sharp. He suspected her identity, “You mean, the mutant identifying herself only as, the Dragon Phoenix?” 

“You Earthlings may call her Dragon Phoenix, if you wish,” he shakes his head dismissively. “My people know her best as Aconasema, (A-con-a-see-mah),” he sounds out her name. 

“Thor,” Iron Man probes his friend's side, he'd never seen, “who's Aconasema?” 

“A goddess”. 

“Hah!. A goddess,” Scarlett Flames busts up laughing. 

“Laugh on your own time, woman,” Thor jumps up. Fists gripped. Eyes sparking with an intensity Fury had never seen. 

Scarlett Flames noticed the same shutting up. He really believed what he's saying. She clears her throat, nervously, apologizing, “I'm sorry I dismissed you so rudely”. 

Thor didn't accept or reject her apology, at least not verbally. The fact he sat back down, insinuated, he did. “Typical,” he remarks. “Earthlings are so close-minded. Why do you think, even now, I cannot share   
many things with you. It'd only hamper your evolutionary progress. This...this...woman, you call a mutant, is much more”. 

War In The Heavenlies

“Where'd she come from? And, if she's Jean Grey's daughter, how can she be a goddess?” 

“Director, she is and is not Jean Grey's daughter”. 

 

“Thor, Buddy, I respect you. A lot,” Iron Man compliments before disagreeing. “But, she can't be both. Either she is, or is not, The Dark Phoenix's daughter. She can't be both”. 

“Therein is the flaw in your logic, My friend,” he criticizes his narrow-mindedness. 

“All yours,” he glances around the table, reading similar doubts in their eyes. No one said anything. He discerned the contempt emanating in their eyes. All theirs, boring into him. 

“The flaw in your logic is simple,” he tries to ease the blow. “You instinctively closer your minds against anything challenging your perception of reality. The Dark Phoenix and Jean Grey was one in the same person, or so you believed”. 

“They were, weren't they?” 

“No, Director, they weren't,” Thor corrects their misconception. “Such ignorance only proves, you still don't truly grasp her powers' true nature. Jean Grey was but a lowly vessel indwelt by a powerful incorporeal entity, you called The Phoenix Force. That goddess possessed her own mind, will, emotions, even likes/dislikes”. 

“Why'd it inhabit Jean Grey?” 

“The Phoenix visited countless worlds. Few ever sparked its interests, like Earth. Your people are so vastly different, squabbling one minute, ready to annihilate one another, but turn right around and help those same people the next. Such aberrant behavior fascinated the Phoenix Force. How better could she learn about us than living among us. Hence, she selected a host, a little girl, imbuing her with remarkable powers. Through Jean, this goddess experienced love, hate, rejection, even death and loss. It'd never experienced such negative emotions. And it didn't know how to handle them”. 

“Is that what created the Dark Phoenix?”

“Even Asgard's greatest minds aren't quite sure about about that answer, Director. You see, Jean Grey and the Phoenix bonded over time, until they essential thought and behaved as one symbiotic entity, though still possessing distinct essences. There are two general consensuses there, though. The last expounds upon the first school of thought. 

One group believes, Jean's inconsolable grief—over losing her parents, hurting the profession when she lost control over her powers, the love triangle with Cyclops and Wolverines. This goddess had watched over the child since indwelling her. Phoenix tried to alleviate Jean's suffering shouldering her deep sorrow. Alas, the Phoenix couldn't handle the mental turmoil literally going insane with grief. Many believe that's what truly created the Dark Phoenix. 

A complimentary group theorized, while Jean's mind was being assailed here on Earth, and the Phoenix tried to alleviate her pain by shouldering her sorrows, the goddess was being manipulated by dark magic. Legend says, Raja, first dragon progenitor and ancient guardian of all magics, fell in love with Phoenicia (the Phoenix goddess' real name), the most beautiful and only creature of her kind under the stars, guardian over life and all wisdom. 

Raja courted her many eons showering her with countless gifts. He'd foolishly squandered half his kingdom, and she still wouldn't return his affections. Her powers grew to eclipse his own. Raja became enraged over her betrayal declaring war against his ex-lover. The couple fought countless times in long-drawn out battles. Neither could ever really best the other. 

Goddess' Birth

And then, for whatever reason, Phoenix decided to dwell among humans. Raja devised his most fiendish revenge ever. He attacked Jean's family, friends; anyone she cared about, thriving on the fact, this young woman's anguish tormented Phoenicia, too. Plus, Raja sensed how much Phoenicia cared about Jean, her host.

Raja figured, afflict the child enough, and Phoenicia would either submit unto him to save her or try and alleviate the child's pain. Either choice would've served his plans. Raja cast a spell the instant she assumed Jean's torment. Her mind was already overwhelmed by negative human emotions. Dark magic only pushed Phoenicia farther over the deep end. 

Raja figured, his beloved would go mad and slay her host. The only person she really cared about in all existence. And he could taunt her later. By then, she'd know the grief her rejection caused him eons ago. His plan, however, didn't play out like he'd hoped. Phoenicia come to her senses enough to recognize dark magic behind hers and Jean's pain, and immediately knew, Raja was responsible. 

The Phoenix tried to excise her connection with the child. Jean lapsed into a coma slowly dying. She'd indwelt her so long. Jean's body couldn't function without its symbiote. The Phoenix did the only thing she could. She left a small essence of herself behind, enough to keep Jean alive but sill comatose. She became flesh assuming Jean's twin, the true target of her ex-lover's rage, this whole time. 

Raja, meanwhile, set into motion the next stage of his revenge plot. Raja, unlike Phoenix, couldn't simply step inside humans. Hence, he did the next best thing knocking out and assuming Wolverine's identity. Raja knew, Jean respected Cyclops' genteel nature but secretly craved Wolverine's assertive but protective nature. 

Raja, as Wolverine, seduced Jean Grey, intending to later break up Jean, Wolverine, Cylcops, essentially all the X-Men. Only, he never perceived his ex-lover's deception. Neither ever imagined it possible. Raja impregnated Phoenicia, who fused back with Jean Grey. ER doctors discovered her with child. Jean regained consciousness long enough to call someone, before going comatose again.

Bella Herrera showed up at the hospital the next day. She posed as Jean's step-sister, twice removed, even had official documentation proving this. The doctors extracted the fetus implanting it inside her womb. Bella fled unto central Mexico. I guess, she figured she'd control the wold's most powerful mutant. She, unfortunately, died during hard labor. What you don't know? Bella Herrera is really the daughter of Pamela Lilian Isley, a.k.a. Poison Ivy”. 

“What?” Fury demands clarity. 

“You heard me, Director,” Thor reiterates, ignoring his teammates' gaping expressions. 

“Correct me, if I wrong,” Scarlett Flames sums up what he'd said thus far. “You're saying, Dragon Phoenix isn't human, mutant, or alien, but a goddess”. 

“Correct,” he nods. 

“Whatever happened with Raja's revenge plot,” Tony Star queries. “Obviously, he failed. The X-Men are still together”. 

“In truth, Dark Phoenix did destroy Xavier Institute. Only it wasn't Jean Grey”. 

“What for?” Everyone choruses together. 

“For many reasons, really,” Thor enumerates them. “First, Phoenicia feared Raja might harm their child upon learning about her conception. Second, she hoped to protect Jean's closest friends. She blew up the mansion, hoping, it'd satisfy Raja's thirst for revenge. And it did for a while, believing Jean did it, driven by the grief he'd planted in her heart. Raja saw through his ex-lover's deception in time. By then, it was already too late. 

Poison Ivy's daughter birthed the child, a daughter. That night, Poison Ivy christened her Bella Rosealba Jayden, blessing, “Shes a beautiful white flower engraved in precious stone”. Poison Ivy and her granddaughter vanished that night. She never bothered burying her daughter. Rose was adopted by a Japanese family. They never suspected anything about her powers.

Two men attacked, intending on raping mother and daughter. Rose stood by emotionless, til one of them slapped her mother. Rose flew into a viral rage slaying both men with such speed and proficiency. Her mother barely blinked, and it was over. Horrified, she grabbed her daughter and fled. That night, those men's companions attacked their home. They feared Rose so greatly. They shot her pointblank in the head with eight hollow point bullets, leaving her for dead, before slaying the rest of her family”. 

The Mystery Only Continues

“I read about that attack in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s archives,” Fury shudders, recalling the massacre photos. 

“Then, you may recall what occurred next,” Thor notices his blank expressions. “Maybe not? Rose survived that attack. In fact, eyewitnesses noted, a bloody, battered little girl with retractable claws, around 8 to 10 years of age stumbling outside her family's home. She arched her back crying like a wounded lion. A violent storm arose from nowhere. Crimson clouds rolled in overhead. A fiery column leveled four city blocks enveloping that little girl. These same witnesses swear an ancient dragon and phoenix fused with empowering that little girl”. 

“I remember. Reports say,” Fury recounts the story, “the fiery column dissipated moments later, leaving a sobbing, inconsolable little girl wearing gold body armor and levitating above the street. She somehow tracked down those behind murdering her family sparing none. A child butchered that Tokyo neighborhood's most dangerous street gang, 300 old men, triple younger adults, and more adolescent kids, men and woman, all of ill-repute. Even the Yakuza lost scores of people trying to stop her murderous rampage. Rumors allege, Mariko Yashida, Wolverine's ex, calmed her down”. 

“Well, that's not entirely accurate,” Thor dispute their reports. “Miss Yashida didn't calm her down, as much as guided the child unto a place of rest. The temple...” 

“Temple? What temple?” Hawkeye asks with piqued curiosity. 

“The Viper's Eye Temple,” Thor replies, happy to see them listening. For once. 

“Damn,” Fury curses bitterly. “Now, more than ever, I wish we hadn't lost that scroll”. 

“You didn't,” Scarlett Flame present him with Kim's scroll. 

“Woman, how long have you had this thing?” 

“Dragon Phoenix entrusted me with its care, before locking me inside here, Sir”. 

“How'd she get her hands on our scroll?” Fury shouts. 

“Dragon Phoenix impersonated Black Widow. Kim Possible couldn't tell the difference giving her the scroll, then leaving without delay, per your instructions. Dragon Phoenix then morphed into Kim Possible delivering a forged scroll into Black Widow's hands”. 

“How's this temple connected unto Dragon Phoenix?” Captain America poses his own question. 

“Even Asgard's greatest minds know so little about this goddess,” Thor exhales sharply, disgusted. “We know, Raja and Phoenicia vanished out the heavens about the same day your witnesses testify seeing an ancient dragon and fire phoenix transforming Bella Bosealba Jayden into Aconasema, the Goddess of Life, Wisdom, and Magic”. 

“Alright, we accept she's a goddess,” Captain America concedes that much. “How can she still be Jean Grey and James 'Logan' Howlett's daughter. Both parents may be mutant, but are still human, last time I checked”. 

“I though we answered that earlier,” he glances around the table. “Guess not. Raja impregnated his ex-lover, Phoenicia”. 

“We understand that much, Old Buddy,” Hawkeye speaks for the rest. “What we don't grasp is, if she's Raja and Phoenicia's offspring, how does she share DNA characteristics with Wolverine and Jean Grey?” 

“To grasp this truth, you must first comprehend something,” Thor elucidates. “This goddess doesn't have a physical body, like you and me. She's an incorporeal entity. Jean Grey and Wolverine are only the 'parents' of her current physical form, not her essence. She has many such parents in many different realms and dimensions, who parent other 'physical forms,' there. In short, they serve as her anchors, grounding her physically within each dimension. Kill both parents and she can still continue to live in her physical form, as long as she desires”. 

“What about her physical body?” Iron Man entertains the possibility of alternate realities. 

“Kill that, and she'll simply chose more parents or dwell in her incorporeal form, in which case, she would could still take a physical form, but only for short periods of time, depending on how grounded she is with our dimension”. 

A wild debate rages, back and forth, several hours, in fact. He never really make much headway with them beyond this point. Thor eventually gets frustrated with human's closemindedness and leaves in a bitter huff. 

Fury stops him before leaving, “Nothing we've discussed here leaves this room, understood?” 

“Yes, Sir,” every man and woman there acknowledges his orders, well, everyone but Tony Stark, who snips, “Whatever!” They follow him out, too.


	12. Give and Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men guards her family and friends, while Kim investigates two promising leads behind this madness. Her lead suspects are Saran Maddox, SHIELD's Shadow Committee's ex-chairman, and Senor Senor.

Heads of the Beast

Dragon Phoenix carried a bucket of ice cold water into the cell. She'd waited nearly two days. Her latest prisoner still hadn't awoke. She rears back the bucket dousing the prisoner. 

Saran Maddox awoke with a start, screaming so loud, her voice went hoarse. Her body wrapped in an ice-wrap, head to toe. Her teeth chattered as she drew each rugged breath. Trembling hands chained into the ceiling, and legs fettered unto the floor. 

A servant bring a space heater inside the cell. 

Saran eyes her warden and the heater. Back and forth. 

Dragon Phoenix knew, she had her prisoner undivided attention stipulating, “I'll ask you some very simple questions. The faster and more concise you answer them, the sooner you can get warm, do you understand me?” 

Saran nods her head, 'Yes'. 

“Good,” she starts this interrogation. 

“Why does Hydra want you dead so badly?” 

“I'm a liability more than an asset. Now”. 

“Why?” 

Saran cuts her eyes sharply, peeved she'd dare ask that question, but replies, “Supreme Hydra believes we're partners, and I shared Hydra secrets with you; the same secrets you used in trapping the Hydra Four, the heroes' doppelgangers”. 

“What about S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“The Shadow Committee charged me with: trying to rebuild Hydra cells within S.H.I.E.L.D., stealing those sentinels' operational codes, and covering my tracks by murdering Dr. Warshire and fabricating evidence against those children, all the while trying to start a war between the mutants and humans”. 

“Let me continue, they believe you kidnapped the real Tony Stark and inserted this doppelganger, and staged these children hacking your sentinels, so you could launch them early, both illustrating what the latest models could do, but also driving up sells, and Hydra's profit margins, and ensuring a greater return when you later sold their operational codes, when humans and mutants started fighting again, am I even close in my supposition?” 

“Yes, “ she wails barely above a mumble. 

“Who idea was this?” 

“Supreme Hydra”. 

“Who's he?” 

“Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, Supreme Hydra of the Americas”. 

“Of the Americas? What does this mean? Is there more than one Supreme Hydra?” 

“Yes. Yes! Yes!!” Saran yells louder each time. 

“Who're they?” 

“Jacob Fury, Nick Fury's younger brother, a.k.a. Scorpio, heads Hdra's Philippines assets”. 

“Modok and Doctor Octopus expanded their A.I.M. operations assuming control over Hydra's European assets”. 

Heads of the Beast, Continued

“I chaired S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Shadow Committee trying to build Hydra cells within S.H.I.E.L.D., mostly puppet bio-sentinels, which you cured while saving the helicarrier”. She lied about that the bio-sentinels, pleased she could still serve Hydra by hoodwinking her jailer. 

“Sheldon Director, a.k.a. Gemini, founder of WEE—though not technically Hydra conquered our warring factions assuming control over our African and Middle Eastern assets”. 

“Does Gemini share any of his profits with the other Supreme Hydras?” 

“Certainly not,” she shakes her head. “Each keeps his faction's own profits, though still giving Hydra, the overall organization, the credit”. 

“Is that why WEE and the rest come up so clean during federal and international police probes?” 

“Exactly,” Saran Maddox only confirms her suspicions. “Jack Hench didn't really control anything in Hydra. He was more the moderator...” 

“He served as the referee, in case a meeting among Hydra's heads suddenly became too heated”. 

“Initially,” she stipulates. “All heads regretted that decision, not long after he joined. None would simply kick him out, though. HenchCo gave Hydra considerable breaks in acquiring cheap labor and illegal tech, even weaponry, plus a good place to laundry money, when needed. The heads, therefore, enlisted the League of Shadows' services. Ra's al Ghoul never technically joined Hydra, but did accept affiliation”. 

“So, they're the six heads, and one moderator, right?” 

“Name and services”. 

“Who takes over your chair now?” 

“Jarox Falcon, probably,” she makes her best educated guess. “Secretary General of the United Nations Wilber Cosgrove nominates my replacement, the GSC will approve or disapprove his/her candidacy. In truth, though, whatever candidate can garner the most political favors gets the chair”. 

“What about Jack Hench's chair?” 

“We never really filled its vacancy, though his VP Myles Daley, filled in sometimes”. 

“Why didn't Struckers pursue Drakken and Shego over the botched attack on the hospital?” 

“Mason Von Richter heads Hyrdras northeastern United State's operations. He boasted how Supreme Hydra Struckers deceived Drakken and Shego into working on Hydra's newest weapon, Project Metallacore, while being sheltered on Senor Senor's island. That's why he already knew, they weren't behind the snythodrone attack on the hospital. Anyway, he plans on eliminating them both as soon as Drakken completes his latest project. What'll you do with me now?” 

“You'll stay here beside Jack's cell,' Dragon Phoenix turns and leaves the cell ignoring her prisoner's hysterical screaming protests and vehement cursing. 

Paradise In Hell

The sun shined in its full intensity sparkling like a priceless yellow garnet stone suspended in the upper heavens. Its majesty pouring upon the earth drying the island sand tan-blonde. The wasn't a cloud in the sky. Local temperatures soared above 106oF (or 41.11oC) over the Caribbeans. 

Bonnie and Junior spread out their blankets. Junior applies ample lotion on his lover's back, and her, his. Both stretch out to enjoy a leisure day relaxing while sunbathing. 

Drakken wasn't really the outdoorsy type, but didn't mind lathering Shego's back, not that he'd ever admit that aloud, fearing her wrath with varying degrees of burns, all over his body.

Cybernetic insects augmented with ocular implants and armed with microscopic lasers patrolled the island's shores. Sentient recon/attack drones maintained a laser grid securing the island skies. Over 60 armed guards crowed around them wielding the latest assault rifle/lasers retrofitted with LED scopes and various models of RPG launchers. 

Crimson clouds roll in without warning. Their coverage was so thick. Even the sun's amber rays couldn't breach their defenses. Primary light around the island come on. Winds howl past 100-mph (or 163.93-km/h) kicking sand into the sunbathers' faces. Thunder mocked their cursing complaints, while lightning snapping memorial photos. Rains descend with growing fury. 

Triple S, his family, and guests race towards the villa, only to be stopped cold when...

Fiery creatures defying description descend out the sky in masses fluttering roundabout them. Senor Senor, Junior, Bonnie, and Drakken no sooner hit the beach. A female humanoid creatures touches down leaving a mini-crater in the beach sands. Guards step over their bosses giving them a chance to escape. 5.56-mm, 5.7-mm, and 7.62-mm rounds assail her from all sides. Only, none ever penetrate her formidable armor ricocheting harmlessly in every direction. 

The Senors' uninvited guest gets annoyed with so much attention. She mimics her children's shrieks pointing. The swarm descends so swiftly and with such fury. Sixty guards vanish amidst harrowing screams in under 20-seconds. 

“Alright,” Shego powers up, “who're you?” 

“Dragon Phoenix,” a voice thunders over nature's fury. 

“Let's dance, Goldie Locks”. 

Dragon Phoenix didn't react unto her witty banter. She simply stood aloof waiting on her opponent to move, first. 

Shego throws a right. 

Dragon Phoenix ducks, easily avoiding her leg sweep, too. 

Shego bounces around somersaulting over her adversary's head. She lands, lobbying two giant plasma bolts. 

Her opponent barely turns good, as one bolt hits her square in the face and the second square in the chest. Shego stood there, bemused. This Dragon Phoenix doesn't even flinch. She simply smirks, turns with lightning speed, and lobbies her own plasma. Not simply a bolt or ball, but one continuous beam. Shego hits the dirt. The beam soars past her temple shattering the study's double pane window. 

An invisible timer hits double zero detonating, searing fire and serrated shrapnel spreads throughout the room, consuming everything inside, even knocking down its four walls and caving in the ceiling. Blood orange flames spread into other parts of their villa slowly consuming their worldly goods. 

“Whoa, neat trick,” Shego compliments her adversary. “Just not good enough,” she cuts her back down. Shego attacks again. Her hands morph into claws. 

Her opponent's do the same. A fiery bird screeches fiercely.

Shego stops cold, turning, ready for a surprise attack. Only, more creatures hit her simultaneously from all sides, temporarily paralyzing her limbs. 

Her adversary takes no pity. Dragon Phoenix draws her sword. 

One, Senor Senor knew all too well. He'd tried to buy it once in Japan. The Mars-soule's, Blood Reaper Blade, reputed given unto Nerio, the personification of valor in battle, and also Mars' wife, many even speculate she could've been called Minerva (Roman) or Athena (Greek), as well. 

Dragon Phoenix swipes her blade severing the minty mercenary's head. 

Hell's Matron

The Caribbean Ocean's salty waters washed over their island shores remind them. Escape wasn't an option. A tumultuous ocean lay ahead and an open beach at their sides. Their home was behind, being slowly consumed by her plasmatic fires, sparking gas explosions and electrical surges. Sixty guards devoured in under 20-seconds, and Shego, in under 30. Now, these creatures hover roundabout them, vultures wanting for fresh kills. Senor Senor didn't like their chances here. 

Dragon Phoenix starts towards them slowly but steady. 

Senor Senor peer into her cold, metallic eyes, gauging her intentions, but getting nothing. 

She draws back her bloody sword. 

“What do you want, Miss?” 

Dragon Phoenix sheaths her sword stating, “Tell me about Project Metallacore”. 

“No,” Senor Senor shakes his head backing away in terror. “I can't”. 

“Fine,” she doesn't argue, simply pointing out his son. Fiery phoenixes descend in swarms phasing through his body. Junior convulses crying in agonizing torment. His pain only escalates with each phasing. 

Blood pressure skyrockets, as breathing and heart rates jump off the charts. Sweat pours down his brow like an open faucet. His limbs twitch uncontrollably. Junior collapses on his knees. His eyes echo his mouth's plea, “Make it stop! Make it stop!” Bitter tears stream down his cheeks staining his shirt.

Bonnie stood frozen in a catatonic induced state. Pure shock and horror plastered across her face. 

Senor Senor still wouldn't give. Not even for his son's safety. 

Dragon Phoenix turns more brutal. Her babies ramps up their body temperatures no longer simply phasing. Invisible hands reach out securing Junior's limbs spread eagle. A phoenix simply descends out the sky slowly devouring his right fingers, tip to stub. 

His father still didn't talk. 

The phoenix consumes the palm down unto the wrist. Junior screams so loud, and was in such pain. He passes cold out. 

Dragon Phoenix leaves him where he lay. She moves towards Bonnie. 

“No, please,” Senor Senor appeals unto her mercy, “she's pregnant”. 

“Project Metallacore, Old Man. Now!” She shouts with homicidal rage. 

He stoves up. Again. His lips sealed tighter than ever. 

Dragon Phoenix draws her sword again. 

He still didn't react. Face stone cold and emotionless. 

She rears back her blade eyeing him, insinuating, 'Only you can stop this'. 

Senor Senor simply shut his eyes tight. Tears stream out their crooks. 

She knew, he was ready to brake. Dragon Phoenix swipes her sword severing the brunette's left arm. She was so lost. The pain didn't even register in her mind. 

“Please,” he implores one last time. 

“What's wrong? I didn't harm the bun. And she can still be a mother with one arm. My patience is running thin”. She holds the sword tip parallel with her navel. “Tell me what I want”. 

Give and Take

Drakken mourned Shego's passing. Bitter tears still stained his miserable eyes. He may be a villain. Even he, though, had limits. Killing a pregnant woman was one. 

She rears back her blade ready to run her and the unborn child through. 

“I'll tell you whatever you wish to know,” Drakken interrupts her murder spree. “Please, just don't hurt anyone else, Miss”. 

“Finally,” she sheathes her sword again, “a voice of reason among the chaos. What's the secret behind Project Metallacore”. 

“I don't know anything about any Project Metallacore. I...” 

“Then, I'm afraid,” she draws her Blood Rearper Blade, “you can't save these people”. 

“Wait just a damn minute...” 

Dragon Phoenix slam him against the beach. Sharp edge held snugly against his throat. “You have 10-seconds. You'd best say something of interest, or you're going to be headless”. 

Drakken didn't argue or complain simply enunciating, “I'm the lead scientist over ten others”. 

“You? A head scientist?” 

“Hey,” Drakken grumbles under his breath. “I resent that backhanded insult. I'll have you know, even that wannabe, Dementor, applied for but was rejected for this post”. 

“Alright, Mr. Brainiac, what's your project?” 

“My projects utilizes James Possible's Hephaestus cybernetic technology. Are you familiar with his work, any at all?” 

“Living metal, right?” 

“Exactly”. 

“James Possible never could stabilize its replication matrix. The metal would repair itself a few times, but then always lose its coherency and dissolve into nothingness. Apparently, no one still hasn't overcome this design flaw. Senor Senor's company, San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc., won a DOD grant to assembled the world's leading scientists, knowledgeable in cybernetics, to stabilize the Hephaestus project's replication matrix”. 

“Didn't you already do this?” 

“Yes and No”. 

“Don't placate me,” she backhands him hard. 

Drakken picks himself up off the ground. He holds up both hands swearing, “I'm not placating you, Miss, nor being facetious. If you'll let me finish,” he rubs his sore face and jaw. 

“Go ahead, just make it quick”. 

“I did stabilize the replication matrix,” he admits the part's true. “The problem was, I used alien tech in doing so”.

“And you lost said tech, when Carrot-Top destroyed your control booth and tower”. 

“Exactly,” he assumes Carrot-Top being Possible's nickname. Shego love nicknaming people. 

“Well, that explains why you're still alive”. 

“Still alive,” Drakken grimaces between Senor Senor and their tormentor. “What's she...?” 

“Don't listen unto her, Doctor,” Senor Senor pollinates his lingering doubts. “She probably works for our competitors. She'd say or do anything, just to get whatever her employers want”. 

“You should know all about liars, don't you, Triple S. You take everything, yet give next to nothing in return, building your empire on the backs of the little people”. 

Awake, But Dreaming

She counters his propaganda driving home his treachery with a simply question, “Doctor, why are you working on this project?” 

“Simple, really. I bought into Senor Senor's company, San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc. I can gross over 20% gross profits. Kings, queens, dictators, presidents, parliamentary and intelligence leaders, even everyday billionaires/millionaires will buy our products in constructing private limos, panic rooms, bunkers, even body armor; the possibilities are limitless”. 

“You gullible bastard, I don't deny the possibility. Senor's company may indeed reap those sales. You, however, won't be around to reap those profits, Doctor”. 

“That's crazy”. 

“Then, why does Hydra Supreme Strucker over the Americas have an impending 24/7 contract over your head, to be executed the instant you complete this project, Doctor?” 

“Is this true, Senor Senor?” Drakken asks him. 

“Of course not,” the old man lies outright. 

“Think, Doctor. Don't be his sap. You've already lost too much. You're the only one who knows this metal's true strengths and weaknesses. Kim Possible exploited them once foiling Lil' Diablo. How can their profit margins soar, if you're still alive, and can readily share those very strengths and weakness with global law enforcement for reduced sentences”.

“Now put yourself in his shoes. His choice is simple. Either deliver Hydra's finished product within a set time limit or his families dies, very excruciating deaths, Doctor. Do you think he'd blink twice over double-crossing you, when his family's at stake?” 

“You learnt what you needed. And you've proven their treachery. I simply wish you could've done so without harming, My Shego”. 

Their gold hued tormentor vanishes in a puff. The clouds overhead disappear and skies become crystal clear, almost immediately. 

Drakken scoops up Shego's decapitated remains. His cold eyes turn towards his host. His tears vowed swift, but lasting retribution.

Senor Senor ignores him hobbling back towards his villa, or what's left of it. Thunder emanates in every direction high above them. 

Drakken and him both stop cold peering into the clear sky. Various class missiles descend out the sky detonating upon impact all around them. The ground shook more violently and island sank lower with each bombing. 

A fiery miasma swept across his island devouring man and beast, and there wasn't anything he could do to help his own son, grandson, or daughter-in-law. He casts aside his own walking can. The same miasma swept towards him. He spread his arms open wide cursing it with every breath, hobbling towards daring it to come get him. The liquid inferno washed over him, only he didn't die, his anguish prolonged, as he heard Drakken's insipid cackling, mocking him amidst his on-going pain, holding Shego's head the whole time. 

Calling Cards and Mind Games

Senor Senor shot up in bed. Cold sweat pouring down both brows. He reaches over popping two heart pills. Only then did it really register. Somewhat. 

He glances around his room, bemused. It'd only been a dream. A nightmare. Senor grabs his cane, slides onto his feet, and hobbles outside his bedroom. He makes his way down the hall peeking into his son and daughter-in-law's room. Bonnie's head laid across his son's chest. Arm thrown across his lower body. Both sleeping peaceably. 

Senor quietly closes the young couple's bedroom door easing back down the hall. He stops adjacent a large window overlooking his private island. His eyes rakes the pristine landscape for miles around. His home still stood like a mighty fortress towering his empire. His mind relaxes a bit more. Accepting, the bombing was simply part of his nightmare, too. 

The best news of all. Drakken nor Shego suspected anything amiss. He didn't betray Hydra's trust. His family was still safe. You didn't lie unto those people. Even the most talented didn't last long. Those people could spot a lie miles away. All he wanted to do, finish this project, deliver this product, and close this contract. He never wanted to deal with these people again, if possible to avoid. 

He was so rattled. He knew he'd never sleep. Senor Senor returns unto his own bedroom suite. He turns on his bedside lamp atop his nightstand, noticing. An orange lily lay atop his favorite book of Japanese sonnets. He picks up and examines the bloom. Thinking, maybe Bonnie or Junior had left it there, while he was sleeping. That was, til he observed something most peculiar. 

The petals' tips all dipped in blood. Human blood. And let dried. A tiny phoenix and dragon painted on opposite sides of the bud. A deep chill ran down his spine. Senor Senor glimpses around his bedroom suite. He didn't know what he experienced this night. Only knew, it wasn't merely a dream. Dragon Phoenix was real, and had really been here. On his island. Inside his villa. In his bedroom. Even haunting his very dreams, if that was truly what he had. 

What rattled him most was realizing just who Dragon Phoenix really was. He was quite familiar with honokotoba, the Japanese language of flowers. The orange lily communicates deep-seated hatred, promising vengeance against those who've wrong you in some way. Her initials (C.H.) printed in Japanese letters, undeniable.

He knew. Only she'd dare use this particular calling card. Any sane person would know better. Fearing the Yashida clan's retaliation. And justifiably so. She took on the most powerful of the Japanese underworld, and only 8 years old at the time. That was nearly 15 years ago. Her name was Chiyoko... 

Hanakawa. 

No. 

Hanazawa

No, no,...

Hanamura. That was her name. 

Chiyoko Hanamura. 

Daughter of...Ichiro and Azami Hanamura. 

She vanished shortly after avenging her family. The Yashida clan had hunted her over 15 years, and still nothing. She was reputed being an omega class mutant. Some speculated her being Jean Grey, the Dark Phoenix's daughter, who the Hanamuras simply ended up adopting, along the way. 

That surely would explain her choosing the moniker, Dragon Phoenix. 

Dragons typically signified boys. 

Phoenixes symbolizes girls. 

Choosing both. One would wonder why. Does it memorialize, another trauma, farther back in her past. Rumors alleged her having an identical twin brother, who died at birth. He knew, he may never know the truth. It didn't stop him debating this nightmare's interpretation.


	13. Two Can Play This Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra learns about her gathering evidence against their chief leaders. Strucker starts an international campaign to get Dr. Director prosecuted for crimes she didn't commit, and have Global Justice disbanded permanently. That's just their Stage #2 for starting this war between humans and mutants. Hydra isn't as strong as it once was. The organization collapsed after its founder's death. Gangland war erupts. Three major factions arose, headed by Strucker's son, Scropion, Modok/Dr. Octopus, and joined by WEE, SHIELD moles, RA's al Ghul (League of Assassins), and Jack Hench. 
> 
> Hydra still appeared strong as ever. Kim decides she'd stress their tenuous relations by instigating a civil war between them. She seems to be making one compromise after another, when will she stop?

Mad Scientist's Scorn

A bitter chill swept over his bedroom chilling his bones. And he wasn't even awake. Dementor slips deeper into his thick Korean mink blanket atop his woolen electric blanket. Every muscles tenses up and teeth begin to chatter. Dementor hugs his blankets tighter, sits up in bed, and glimpses around his bedroom. Weary eyed and still half asleep. 

Even his mind couldn't miss. His window was open, while a howling Himalayan snowstorm blew copious amounts of fresh snow inside, and arctic winds dropped indoor temperatures well below freezing. Dementor jumps up and trots over unto his window, grumbling with each step. He slams the window latching it shut. He turns...

And there she stood: 5'5” (or 165.1-cm) tall redhead, weighting about 110-115 lbs (or 49.90-52.16-kg), and wearing a form-fitting black catsuit 

The mutant the villain community had been raving about over three weeks now. 

Yep. Definitely, her. 

“Whatz uz wantz, Fraulein?” 

“Project Metallacore”. 

Dementor loses it cursing and swearing, lost in German. He randomly knocks things off the mantel, shelves, and nearby tables. He wasn't very cautious which. 

Dragon Phoenix lets him rave nearly 5-minutes, before shouting, “Enough!” 

The finality in her voice stops his cold. Dementor turns around facing her. His hands interlocked behind his back, and smiling precociously, flouting, “Why mez? Why nowz? Waz't itz enough mocking myz intelligence by choozing that idiot over mez?” 

“Relax, Helmet Head. I'm not with Hydra. Nor am I here mocking you”. 

“What duz youz wantz thenz?” 

“Drakken heads an research team”. 

Dementor cuts his eyes growling aloud with fists clenched. 

“I, too, feel your pain, and share your disbelief,” she builds some rapport. “I don't understand how anyone could chose that idiot, to head anything, even preparing happy meals”. 

Her words sink in striking a funny chord. Dementor busts up laughing. Hard. “Ja,” he agrees with much fanfare, “Iz, Professor Dementor, is the greatest criminal scientist in the world”. 

“Then, please share, why weren't you chosen over Drakken?” 

“Ev'ryone applzing interzviewzed, beforze blacked out TV screenz”. 

“How many?” 

“Sevenz”. 

“Did anyone explain your rejection?” 

“Senorz Senorz said, thoz behindz thiz mystery project feltz, I lack an adequate underzandingz of zcybernetics, theyz believedz necessary, to doz thiz prozect”. 

“Don't envy that blue idiot, Doctor,” she strokes his bruised ego. “He doesn't know it, and probably wouldn't believe us, if we told him. He'd little more than a pawn in Hydra's latest scheme. There's a standing kill order over him the instant he finishes their pet project, something about the Hephaestus cybernetic and the replication matrix”. 

“Serves him right,” Dementor howls with laughter. Such laughter warmed his chilled bones. 

Serves Him Right

“Whats aboutz, Fraulein Shegoz?” 

“Same fate, I'm afraid”. 

“We cannot allowz diz,” he implores. 

“Agreed,” she offers her help. “Tell me about this secret project”. 

“Secretz?” Dementor laughs that much harder. “They don't think Iz knowz. But...” His laughter gets more chaotic, harder to repress, “I doz”. He taps the side of his helmet. “It involves human robots”. 

“Cyborgs?” 

“Nein,” he shakes his head. No. 

“Thoz tingz thatz fightz the mutanten”. 

“You mean, the bio-sentinels?” 

“Ja. That'z zem”. 

“Do you know who's helping on this project?” 

“Zwei,” he holds up two fingers. 

“Dr. Amyz Hallz, a.k.a. DNAmyz, worldz renownz American geneticist”. 

“Dr. Akira Itzu, a Chinese neuro-molecular biologists”. 

“Dr. Mario Capello, Italian theoretical/computational neuroscientist/neurosurgeon. 

“Dr. Liam Cooper, Australian social/developmentla psychologist”. 

“Both work for Eon-A-Core Research, International”. 

“Not anymore,” Dragon Phoenix boasts. “I blew up Eon-A-Core and Iroh a couple days ago...” 

“...whenz you freezd thoz heroez”. 

“Exactly,” she admits what she did. “Do you know where Hydra will move their scientists next?” 

“Nein,” he shakes his head again. “Maybez Richtzer would knows. Strucker's right handz guyz”. 

“Here,” she tosses him an attache case. 

“Whatz zis?” He glints towards the shiny silver case. 

“$50,000 for your troubles, Doctor”. 

He was about to refuse the money, when she simply fades away before his very eyes. 

Suffer The Consequence

Hydra had absorbed enough losses. In the less two weeks along. Strucker didn't think they could continue this. His investors were already getting antsy. First, they target a scroll. Possible beats them. Second, they attempt to reclaim their property. She butchers them in masses. Third, they stage an attack on the hospital. 

A new player enters the arena. End result, more devastating losses. Things only continue downhill from there. Lastly, they attack this S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight. Her murder was the perfect set up, blaming both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice. A new player. A mutant, at that. She enters the arena behind Agent Knight. 

Hydra's losses quadruple overnight. She'd blown up 30 research labs, even arranging police raids on 15 major corporations—most would be bankrupt by week's end, over shareholders dumping their stocks so fast, for pennies on the dollar; not to mention, torching their control matrix, over nearly 8,000 bio-sentinels in this state alone, when she destroyed Iroh Base. 

Just contemplating these losses made him madder by the moment. Strucker grabs his telephone dialing his right hand man. 

“Richter here”. 

“Have you found her yet?” 

“Not yet, Sir”. 

“Richet!” 

Richter cringes, hearing something smash against the wall. He wisely said nothing. 

“Find her, or you'll pay the price of all failures,” Strucker slams down the receiver. 

Media Circus

Dragon Phoenix accepted the professor's warm invitation. She simply materialized back inside the catacombs beneath the school. She didn't bother to announce her presence. 

Tim and Jim came across her first, while exploring the underground tunnels. Both knelt down, very quietly observing what she was doing.

Dragon Phoenix relaxed upon her fiery throne, hovering millimeters above the ground, watching a live 3D simulcast of some court proceedings. 

Professor X proves more intuitive than most. He senses her presence. Wolverine was nowhere in sight. He knew, where he'd locate both, Wolverine and his estranged daughter. 

Him, watching her. 

And her, pretending, she didn't sense his presence. 

Professor X waits til classes start, before descending into the catacombs, through the secret passage off his office. He easily spots Tim and Jim clearing his throat behind them. 

“Uh... Hey,” both boys smile sheepishly wiggling their fingers. 

Professor Xavier scours the tunnels roundabout. Wolverine was still anywhere in sight. That, in and of itself, wasn't weird. The odd part was, he couldn't sense his presence, either. 

He looks past them spotting Jean's daughter, seated upon her fiery throne watching a simulcast. 

A young blonde female reporter, average build, and piercing blue eyes, appears on screen covering, “We're entering the second day of deliberations...” 

“My Dear,” she mutes the transmission, “how are you viewing the U.N.s GSC hearing. It's closed unto the media, well, except through releases given unto members of the press in the press room”. 

“Relax, Professor. I tapped select brainwaves inside the buildings, using tech very similar unto your own Cerebro”. 

“Cool,” Jim and Tim gulp hard, sorrow they'd said anything, as she pivots upon her throne locking cold crimson eyes upon them. 

She ignores the tweebs louring coldly, and simply turning up the volume again. The same reporter appears on screen beaming, “For those just tuning us in, this case enters its second day of deliberations, and may very well set international legal precedence. For years, maybe decades to come. It wasn't that long ago. Few suspected anything about Global Justice's existence. 

The organization achieved international prominence during the Lorwardian invasion. Dr. Director, its Senior Director, spearheaded a daring operation, involving a wanted felon—Shego—and renowned hero, Kim Possible's partner, Ron Stoppable. This unlikely duo freed their companions being held captive aboard the alien craft, even sabotaging their spaceship, and hurling these would-be conquerors into the crash landing vessel. 

Leaders the world over heralded Dr. Director's ingenuity and solidity. This case only proves how dramatic one's life can change, overnight. Dr. Betty Elizabeth Director has brought many cases felons to justice. Well, this time, she sits not as the accuser, but as the accused. Many of you may wonder. What she's being charged with? And why? 

This case stems back several weeks. Dr. Miguel Monsoya, renown Romanian archaeologist, found historic artifacts in Altava, Algeria, referencing The Viper's Eye scroll. Legendary documents reputed to record the location of some secret ancient weapon. One can only imagine its nature. Whatever it may be, both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice sought to obtain these scrolls and recover the weapon, before an enemy regime or terror group acquired its destructive power. 

Anonymous sources inside both agencies assure this reporter. Global Justice failed to renew her provisional agent status. Kim Possible signed with S.H.I.E.L.D. Some speculate, she did so to spite her former mentor, Dr. Director, who, some believe, retaliated by trying to have the young redhead and her family shot down while in S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight's custody. Some even speculate she sided with mutants in attacking S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. We asked why. 

The U.N.'s JAG believes, the accused did this fearing her young protegee might expose her illegal activities. Eyewitnesses confirm, G.J.'s senior director seemed dead-set on arresting Kim Possible, who she still considered her agent, even after hearing she'd acted in self-defense when hers and her partner's homes were attacked by masked assailants wielding assault rifles. Her hospital attacked by robots, all in Global Justice's possession only sheds more doubt about her innocence. 

Such doubts leave many speculating. What does Kim Possible know? And what evidence does she possess against her mentor? It must be damning. What else could motivate an otherwise law abiding woman risk not only hers but her organization's reputations in contemplating cold-blooded murder, to simply silence one lone agent? Such actions almost defy logic for someone so methodical. Dr. Wade Load and his family's disappearances have DOJ asking. Did she do something unto them, too? 

OPM Agent Kyle Rockmyer probed Dr. Director's involvement in these alleged illegal activities, absolving her guilt, while advising GSC Chairman Ivan Kedrov, he should charge two senior agents, Lieut. Commander Marcus Hardwell and Commander William Eli Du, and three junior agents, Kasey Mitchell, Barbara Hendrix, and Lea Chan, with going rogue and carrying out thee operations without sanctioning authority. 

Based on yesterday's press release, GSC Chairman Ivan Kedrov would be meeting with legal services today debating Rockmyer's recommendation. For now, all five agents are being held without bail, though no official charges have been filed as of 10:00 a.m., today. Global media groups called this internal 'kangaroo court' the worst miscarriage of justice in nearly 75 years. Russia, Germany, China, and six other member nations have filed official grievances. 

Global Justice's legal trouble may not be over any time soon. Taiwan, Kosovo, Bermuda Islands, the Cayman Islands, and 20 other sovereign island/territories outside the U.N. have charged Dr. Director, personally, and Global Justice, as a whole, with violating several U.N. Article 7 Statues by crossing their borders and carrying out illegal ops, resulting in 100 counts of first degree murder, 60 counts of attempted murder, fabricating evidence in over 200 high profile global cases, jury tampering, witness intimidation, etc. Many are advocating the ICJ should hear this case, and the U.N. Security Council be forced to abolish Global Justice...” 

Royal Furor

“No, no, no,” she was on her feet. Ranting and raving. “You'd only be playing into their hands. You fools! Why can't you perceive what they're doing...?” She goes into a foreign tongue. 

Professor X wisely lets her vent a little before asking, “What's wrong, Dear?”

Dragon Phoenix abruptly stops, and turns around, smiling roguishly. 

They'd only recently met. He instantly recognized Jean's mischievousness peeking through, “What do you have in mind, Dear?” 

“Betty Director just hired another member of her defense team”. 

“What can you do?” 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. would've lambasted Nick Fury, if I hadn't defended him. I must do the same for her, or these idiots behind all this win, and millions will lose their lives”. 

“Who'll win?” He probes what she meant. 

“Hydra, Professor. Hydra”. 

“But, they're...” 

“Defeated?” She cracks up laughing. Amused, a wise man could be so gullible. “Learn from your own history, Schoolmaster. Hydra's been crushed numerous times. Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker simply slithered into the nearest hole and gets busy rebuilding his organization, til ready to make his next grand debut. Last time, that stunt costed him his empire. 

His people assumed him dead. His empire broke into warring factions. Strucker wasn't seen again for many years. Most believe, the father died and a trusted consort raised his son. Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, Jr. arose to power but could never reunited all factions. The Americas, Canada, Alaska, and the Caribbeans elected him, Supreme Hydra over the Americas. Others, however, beat him in uniting and/or eliminating Hydra factions over Europe, Asia, Philippines, Africa, etc”. 

“So, Betty Crocker,” Wolverine slips out the shadows, “you know history, too. I was there. What do you have in mind? Since your actions will definitely impact my friends' well-being”. 

“Father,” she barely acknowledges his presence, but answers his question as though asked by the professor, “I'm gonna incite a civil war between the rival Hydra factions. Their relationship is tenuous at best”. 

“How'll you do this, Dragon Phoenix?” 

“By becoming the ideal bait,” she laughs maniacally. 

“Professor, you might want to move your people”. 

'I knew she'd end up get them hurt or killed,' Wolverine thinks. 

“Them being targeted isn't my fault, Father”. 

He perceives she'd read his mind. Angered, over his privacy being violated, he snaps, “It never is, is it, sweetheart?” 

She grits her teeth and turns her back towards him, barely keeping her temper in check. “Hydra's had this school under surveillance for nearly six months. Way before my arrival. Father, I can't...” 

“You know what...” She turns back around. Fists clenched. Eyes aglow. Crimson red. “Screw you. I'm tired of defending myself. Like I did something wrong. And against what? A chauvinistic, pea-brain neanderthal, who act more like an animal than a human, mutant, or Father”. 

Professor X goes to calm her down. Alas, it was too late. She disappears before their eyes. 

“Logan, you never rile an Omega-class mutant like her,” he rebukes his oldest friend. “Only God knows where she is, or what she's prepared to do”. 

“Look,” Jim and Tim points towards the 3D holocast.


	14. Treading The Impass By Defending The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'd already defended Nick Fury, and won. SHIELD was saved. Kim knew, she must now defend Dr. Director to derail Hydra' s plans. Stop this U.N. committee from disbanding Global Justice. And she'd have two powerful international law agencies to keep the peace when this war war erupts. And it will. Also, she's giving humans and mutants a mutual reason to hate her and join forces against these genocidal saboteurs.

Grand Entry

Security was a major issue. This case had already gained enough notoriety. They'd didn't need any more publicity, positive or negative. Two GSC guards bolt chamber doors huts. Three others search Dr. Director and her legal defense team unto their table. More guards patrol the chamber throughout the proceedings. 

“When did you...?” GSC Chairman Ivan Pedrov starts his next line of questions

A brilliantly mottled light sweeps over the chamber's interior temporarily blinding everyone there. And, when the spots cleared, there she stood. A 5'5” (or 165.1-cm) tall redhead, weighting about 110-115 lbs (or 49.90-52.16-kg), and wearing a form-fitting black catsuit. 

Sergeant Jacob Brewster and his chamber guards rally around their intruder with guns drawn. All ready and willing to shoot, should she make any sudden movements. 

Dragon Phoenix sneers over their 'show of force,' illustrating her own. She closes her eyes chanting. A vivid aura settles over her body. The guards' guns, in fact, all weapons dissolve into atoms. A band of light latches around every guard's shoulders, arms, waist, knees, and ankles completely immobilizing, while dragging the back and fettering six against one wall and six against the opposite wall. 

“What's the meaning of this?” 

“And you are?” 

“Esther Cox, logistics specialist in charge....” 

“Don't care,” Dragon Phoenix cuts her off sharply. “Are you the chairman here?” 

“That'd be me,” an older gentleman in his early 50 stands up buttoning his three-piece suit. “Ivan Pedrov, Chairman of the GSC. And you are?” He reciprocates his colleague's inquiry. 

“I'm known by many names, Chairman” she starts her introduction. “I was christened many years ago, Bella Rosealba Jayden, in Central Mexico, by Father Jose Sanchez, of Her Lady of Grace Catholic Church, but transported to and adopted in Japan as Chiyoko Hanamura...”

“Daughter of Ichiro and Azami Hanamura?” 

“That, or as the Japanese underworld favors calling me, Chiyoko Muramasa, Dr. Director”. 

“Global Justice has been searching for you, nearly 15 years”. 

“Never mind that,” Chairman Pedrov bangs his gavel getting this inquiry back on track. “Why are you here?” 

“You're acting like squabbling children on the playground,” she accosts them all. “I decided to treat you as such”. 

“And that's why you immobilized my men?” 

“There are female officers among them, too, Chairman”. 

“You know what I meant,” Pedrov rolls his eyes, not amused. “Answer the question”. 

“Very well,” she yields under his authority. “We all faced bullies growing up. That experience takes on new dynamics into adulthood. Our childhood bullies, unless reformed, becomes more devious and sometimes better connected. In school, bullies are usually bigger kids, sometimes even smaller ones, who have something that allows them to exert influence over their peers. And they'll usually surround themselves with bigger, stronger kids to secure their power. 

As said, these dynamics change drastically in adulthood. Of course, that stakes are higher and, well, bullies meaner. For example, we get a good paying job or maybe a promotion. What's the first thing we do? We surround ourselves with 'the right people,' who can safeguard that job by telling those in authority how good we're doing said job. It's built into our very natures to do this”. 

Making The Connection

“Miss, how's this pertinent unto this hearing?” 

“Simple, Mr. Chairman,” she breaks down the real issues they're facing. “This committee, G.J., even those nations, islands, and territories filing these grievances are so busy scratching out turf, and squabbling over legalities, you don't see how easily you're being manipulated, If you did, you'd be downright outraged”. 

The rest couldn't remain quiet any longer. Josiah Morales removes his spectacles sighing heavily, and rubbing his throbbing head, “What's that supposed to mean?” 

Dragon Phoenix didn't get angry over him speaking up. In fact, she needed to coax their mutual participation. “This committee's so busy trying to appease those 'wronged' by Global Justice's alleged illegal actions. You don't see the crooked politics at work behind the scene”. 

“The director's legal team,” she addresses them, too, “is so overwhelmed by an avalanche of legal documentation, most of which isn't worth that much and meant to purely distract them from the issues at hand. Capitalizing their problem, more paperwork keeps pouring in as more nations, islands, and territories file sanctions against Global Justice and its Senior Director, particularly. Their allegations have called into question over 200 high profile cases. 

The director's legal team must review these as well as hers, developing the best possible defense. That task's monumental, considering, they must balance different nations, islands, and territories' laws with international and maritime laws, within the area where each infraction allegedly occurred. Believe me, I'd never be presumptuous enough to tray and denounce all these charges as mere fabrications, for some may indeed be true. 

Even so, that doesn't prove whether or not my client knowingly committed these alleged offenses. She could've simply been misinformed, as I'll demonstrate as these proceedings continue. All in all, we can all agree. The majority of these grievances are little more than trumped up allegations, built around mutual misunderstandings or downright lies, and wrapped in legalese to make her perceived crimes sound more deplorable than they really are”. 

“And why would someone do this?” Alexa Diaz challenges this line of reasoning. 

“Simple,” she doesn't waver under the challenge. “Everyone knows, guilt and innocence don't really matter in such cases. Politics do. Those held accountable may lose their jobs, spend time in jail, maybe, on rare occasions, be executed. Truth be told, that isn't nearly as important as the payout. A settlement. A way we show those wronged by our agents or leaders' actions, whether sanctioned or not, we regret the pain their actions caused their nations and people. Most haven't been wronged. They're simply putting their orders in ahead of time. Just so they can possibly get a bigger payout in the end”. 

“You're obviously a gift orator”. Donald Perez compliments, but enjoins, “Do you have any real proof substantiating these grand claims of yours?” 

“Of course I do”. 

“What?” Every council member gasps in shock. 

Even Dr. Director's legal team joins in, never suspecting she had anything beyond rhetoric asking, “What do you have?” 

“That was just my opening argument. Let's get one thing straight, first, just so there cannot be any misunderstandings later,” she clarifies her legal position amidst this heated debate. “I'm not here to debate each individual grievance against Dr. Director”. 

“I'm confused, why then are you here?” Roderick Gomez voices the others mutual doubts. 

Dragon Phoenix knew, she was losing their support fast. She must give them cold, hard facts, or they'd simply dismiss whatever else she said, regardless how logical it sounded. 

“Fact #1,” she lays out her case, “we're here largely because two fighter pilots repeatedly ignored S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight's security clearance, even defied Director Fury's orders to stand down, advocating Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans confirmed Agent Knight's rogue status and authorizing Lieutenant Elaine McInnis to 'talk her down or blow her out the sky'”. 

Oh, Wait, There's More

Murmurs roll around the chamber. “We don't...” Esther Cox speaks up, only to be silenced. 

She couldn't chance them getting sidetracked. Again. “Fact #2, America's simply a handy pawn in someone's plot to pit Global Justice and S.H.I.E.L.D. against one another”. 

“Why would someone do this?” Josiah Morales probes what's behind this line of reasoning. 

“It's no secret. Nick Fury and Betty Director share bad blood. Their enmity spilled over into both agencies. Agents war against one another, and don't even know why, only they should. It's tradition”. 

“And that's pertinent why?” 

“Easy, Mr. Chairman, it's what lies at the heart of this issue. Have you heard about the Viper's Eye Scrolls”. 

“Yes,” Chairman Pedrov speaks for the rest. “Five ancient scrolls reputed to lead to some untold WMD. Why?” 

“Did you know S.H.I.E.LD. Agent Kim Possible and her partner obtained the first scroll”. 

“What?” More than a few council members rasp in utter shock. 

“Still holding some things back, hey, Director?” Dragon Phoenix laughs, shaking her head very condescendingly, with deep pity in her eyes. 

“Anyway,” she turns back towards this commission, “both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice wanted those scrolls. Why? Only their directors and boards know for sure. And they weren't the only ones. In fact, Possible's vid-cam proves an XC-2 with Japanese markings, a KC-39 with Brazilian markings, and a KU-30 with Russian markings shadowing her team. 

These teams ambushed and massacred S.H.I.E.L.D. 34th Dog-Eye Unit, under Commander Eli Moreheim's command, tasked with securing the temple. His team delayed their enemies long enough for Team Possible to locate the first scroll. The spies ventured into the temple. Few made it out alive. Why do you think the very nations filing these grievances have made repeated attempts against Kim Possible's life, even though she's comatose and cannot tell us where she hid the scroll?” 

Council members began to debate this development's relevancy. 

Dragon Phoenix permits their bickering several minutes. “Fact #3,” she gets this venue back on track, “you're so busy trying to discern if Global Justice wronged S.H.I.E.L.D., or vice versa, hoping maybe by doing so, you could more easily resolve which wronged those filing these grievances, and maybe somehow that will solve your mounting legal issues”. 

“Of course we do,” Josiah Morales reasons. “It's what makes the most logical senses”. 

“A Japanese wise man once told me, not all logic is logical; no more than all foolishness, foolish. It really depends on your viewpoint of the situation”. 

“What? That makes no sense,” Several council members complain about her line of defense. 

“Of course it does,” she corrects their flawed thinking. “You see, your narrow perception limited your interpretation of the evidence, or you wouldn't be at each others' throats. Simply put, even without realizing it, you've all assumed this trouble started with Global Justice and S.H.I.E.L.D. Therefore, it's only logical, someone(s) inside those organizations must be behind this madness. I'm here to say you're all wrong in that deduction”. 

“Do you have any proof?” 

Supporting Evidence

“I have ample proof, Councilwoman Diaz,” Dragon Phoenix assures them all. “And so do you, if you'd only coordinated your investigation with S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Esther Cox takes exception unto that statement. 

“Simply this. I met with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Shadow Committee. They, much like you, were dead-set in lambasting Director Fury, over something he didn't even do; no more than Dr. Director did. Again, I'll reiterate, I'm not debating her guilt or innocence, over crossing boarders without legal permission. I'm simply stating, she didn't attack Kim Possible or her partner's homes, Middleton Medical Center, or attempt to kill S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight, while transporting Agent Possible, her family, and friends to safety aboard their helicarrier”. 

“Do you have anything else?” Roderick Gomez actually sounded indignant. He left the 'of any true importance' hanging at the end. 

Dragon Phoenix didn't miss his snipe. “Yea, I do,” she meets him head-on. “Compare your network logs with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. Trust me, you'll be glad you did. Your logs will absolve Dr. Director and those political martyrs, you call agents, with any wrongdoings in connection with firing that missile over New York City, nearly killing S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents Aurora Knight and Kim Possible, as well as hers and her partner's families”. 

“Maybe so,” Mavis Harris snips dismissively, “that still won't absolve her over activating those fighter pilots”. 

“You show more spine that the rest,” Dragon Phoenix's smile broadens. 

Councilwoman Harris knew she'd royally messed up, just by this mutant's derisive undertone. She opens her mouth about to clarify what she really meant and stop this one cold. 

Dragon Phoenix doesn't give her a chance contending, “Finally, we hear the truth—the core issue, upon which all these grievances hinge”. 

Chairman Pedrov cuts his eyes sharply. Councilwoman Harris immediately shuts up. Peeved, she'd been so easily duped into their opponent's point. 

Pedrov couldn't simply deny this line of questioning's veracity. It'd been entered into public record. He could, though, shroud the issue in doubts, “Can you prove she didn't purposely mislead that base commander?” 

“I can,” she attests without any hesitation. “Very Easily”. 

Councilman Gomez found her certainty very unsettling, and wondering, had the GSC investigators missed something during their probe . “What do you have, Miss?” 

“I'll answer your question, if you answer mine,” she baits him with a smile. “Did anyone on your investigative team actually contact Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans?”

“Sergeant Major Nigel Hughes, the GSC's SAIC (Senior Agent In Charge) of this investigations did contact his office...” 

“And spoke with him personally, Mr. Chairman,” she demands a straight answer. 

“No,” his conviction falters a bit. 

“Let me guess, Inspector Hughes spoke with Nevans' secretary. And she said he authorized that attack, of course, based on falsified INTEL, and allegedly supplied by Dr. Director, correct?” 

“Yes,” he grumbles behind gritted teeth. 

Treading The Impasse

“It seems, we've reached an impasse. We know beyond any doubt. Someone lying here. Logic says, either Nevans or Dr. Director is? But, ask yourself. What if neither is lying?” 

“Now,” Alexa Diaz cuts in, “we know you're pulling something. They can't both be telling the truth. It's downright impossible”. 

“Improbable? Yes. Impossible? No,” she disputes her interpretation. “Remember my caution earlier. Not all logic is logical; no more than all foolishness, foolish. It really depends on your viewpoint”. 

“What the hell does that even mean, Lady?” 

“I'm about to show you, Mr. Chairman. Here,” she gives each board member their own copies of select paperwork. 

“What's this?” 

“A signed affidavit, Mr. Chairman,” she identifies its purpose. 

“From who?” 

“Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans. Not his aide. Not his secretary. Himself. If you doubt its authenticity, his private cell number tops your copy alone, Sir. Call him, and he'll confirm he never made that alleged call. If you demand, summon him and he'll appear in a similar inquest saying the same thing. And, while we're on this subject, I have more evidence proving the same thing”. 

“Whose does this concern?” 

“His secretary,” she states, noting everyone's confusion. “His real secretary, Miss Judith Collins”. 

“Inspector Hughes' report notes, he called Nevans' office that Thursday, around 10:38 a.m., and spoke with a Miss Judith Collins”. 

“I don't see the problem then,” Chairman Pedrov objects her line of reasoning dismissively. 

“Just remember what I said about viewpoints,” she cautions him pressing on with her point. “The problem is two-fold here, if only your investigator bothered to double check the facts. First off, Nevans couldn't have spoken with that base commander”. 

Chairman Pedrov and his colleagues couldn't shake the feeling. The hammer was about to drop any second. “Go ahead,” Pedrov beckons this witness. 

“Check his itinerary, Nevans was outside the states on vacation with his family. He left his D.O.D. issued cell and laptop behind, even gave his secretary explicit instructions, 'Don't disturb me for any reason, unless the President called me directly'. Fact is, he didn't even get back into the states til the following Wednesday, two days after Nevans allegedly called this base commander. The sad fact is, his secretary can't verify this fact,” she baits them opening a new line of inquiry. 

“Why's that?” Donald Perez couldn't contain his own curiosity. 

“Both witnesses in this case are dead. Colonel Isaac Dixon authorized Lieut. Elaine McInnis' attack on S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents Aurora Knight and Kim Possible, only to be stabbed outside his home the next morning. His murder remains open but unsolved. While chilling, I must admit, this isn't hard evidence. But, this is,” she presents them all with two photos, apiece. 

“Who're these women?” 

“The picture on the right is the real Judith Collins”. 

“But, you said she's dead?” Pedrov disputes its relevancy again. 

“Shot twice, point blank, in back the head, to be precise,” she states dryly. “Dr. Ashley Crawford, Chief Medical Examiner at the FBI's New York City Office, concluded she'd been dead 2 days. Two,” she holds up two fingers. “The woman on the left...” 

“And who's she?” Councilman Gomez asks. Several colleagues nod their own curiosities. 

“Her name was Melody Chambers”. 

“And what'd she do? Murder Miss Collins, so she could play secretary for a day or two”. 

“Precisely, Mr. Chairman”. 

“To what end? That's absurd, even for you!” Several colleague voice similar concerns. Councilman Gomez smirk snugly challenging, 'Top that'. 

“Use your imaginations,” she challenges every council member. “Both women are the same height, weight, and size, a little prosthetics and no one would tell the difference. And besides, who inside the office really pays attention unto secretaries, besides their bosom and curves below the belt”. She still didn't have their attention. Not yet. But would. 

“Now, here's the really interesting part,” she lays individual Interpol files before them. “Would you believe, this woman in the left picture, the same one who assumed Miss Collins' identity, is a long suspected double agent for Hydra. She's currently wanted in over six counties in connection with 9 homicides. Her specialties entail scouting a region, identifying Hydra's primary rivals and their competition, while instigating a war between these factions. That way, they'd eliminate themselves long before realizing Hydra's presence. And she's done the same thing here. Do you think it merely coincidental she happened to play secretary for a couple of days, during the same time period you investigator calls Nevans' office?” 

Setting Off Alerts

“Master,” Richter rushes into his lord's presence, uninvited. 

“What?” Struckers leaps on his feet. Fists clenched tightly. 

His subject didn't pale or draw back. That alone was enough to grab his attention. “Master, please forgive thy servants impropriety. You must see this,” he replay that last part. 

“See why I came, Supreme One,” Richter prays he did right. 

Strucker didn't say anything right away, debating, the necessary actions. 

“Do you wish to continue listening, while you decided, Sir?” 

Strucker nods yes. 

*

“Why would Hydra instigate a war between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice?” Pedrov casts more doubt over Hydra's involvement. 

“Kim Possible's partner was seriously hurt acquiring this Tiger's Eyes Scroll. For reasons I don't understand, she didn't stop at the many military bases, state/federal agencies, or hospital and clinics along their way home. She rushed him unto MMC, where her mother works. Fury dispatched Black Widow to meet her there and obtain the scroll. 

Only, I arrived first and impersonated Black Widow. Agent Possible entrusted the scroll into my care, then left. I, in turn, disguised myself as Kim Possible, left the bathroom, til observing Black Widow go inside. I came in shortly behind giving her a forged scroll. Per S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol, Fury put the fake scroll into a climate controlled section of their vault. 

The scroll stayed there, maybe six hours, tops, then simply dissolved into atoms. That's how easily I escalated S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice's strife. Fury swore up and down. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't have the scroll. And besides, three authentication experts proved what they did have was a forgery. Global Justice believed it only a ploy, as did Strucker. That imbecile had to know the truth, fake or real, he moved against S.H.I.E.L.D. proving Hydra's complicity in all this”. 

A bitter debate broke out among the council members. Most found merit in this line of reasoning. Other felt, however, it simply distracted everyone from the core issues at hand. 

* 

“Imbecile?” Strucker recoils over her scathing remark. 

He storms over activating his control console, “Dr. Van Strom, activate bio-sentinel 7-Alpha-09-Victor-2”. 

*

All arguments cease almost immediately. A female guard cried aloud in great agony. Head snapping side-to-side. Neck reared back. Eyes bloodshot. Veins bulging and limbs twitching violently. An invisible scalpel carves open a section of the victim's right forearm. Fresh blood runs down her arm pooling beneath her feet. The pain and blood loss didn't register on her mind. 

Dragon Phoenix had waited patiently. She suspected, he'd make his move sooner or later. A flaming phoenix appears overhead. A laser rifle materializes out the victim's forearm powering up. The phoenix phases with the victim shutting down the receiver triggering the bio-sentinel implants. 

“What the hell's going on here?” Chairman Pedrov demands. 

“What is she?

“Another mutant?

“An alien?' 

Each council member spouts the first logical thing popping in his/her mind. 

“Calm down, ladies and gentleman”. 

“She's a bio-sentinel...” 

Raising The Stakes

“Dr. Van Strom, what's wrong?” 

“That unit malfunctioned, Sir”. 

“Activate bio-sentinel 8-J-Alpha-97-Theta-24”. 

*

Mere seconds transpire. A junior G.J. defense team member starts to wail and convulse, like the guard moments earlier. His agony capitalized by a thousand percent. The same invisible hand reaches down splicing open both his arms. 

Dr. Director backpedals, both startled and genuinely terrified. She barely survived the last time that idiot's synthodrones went amok. 

Blood poured down both limbs. The pain and fatigue didn't register in his mind. Class-14 blue lasers protrude out his arms. He didn't hesitate targeting her and firing full power. Two 10-megajoule shots impact her armor, only to be absorbed. 

Another phoenix appears overhead, phasing with and deactivating this bio-sentinel, too. 

*

“What's wrong now, Doctor?” 

“It's those fire beasts of hers, Sir,” Dr. Van Strom clears his throat nervously. “Somehow, they phase with living matter disrupting our command signal's control over the bio-sentinels”. 

“Fine, activate all bio-sentinels within that chamber and set them to overload,” he orders. 

Dr. Van Strom suppresses his own aberrations. Logic necessitated, he survive above anyone else. He does as commanded monitoring the situation inside the GSC chamber. 

*

A senior G.J. defense team member, three more guards, and three council member join their ranks writhing in pain, and convulsing violently. Head snapping and eyes rolling in back their heads. All crying in greater agony than earlier victims. 

The unafflicted abandon their chairs backing up against the nearest wall or corner. All eyeing the fallen and today's intruder demanding answers. 

“What's going on here?” Chairman Pedrov demands more authoritative than ever. 

“I told you. Hydra's...”

“Suspicious signal detected. Warning. Warning. Bio-sentinels' GBX bio-explosive implants are set to overloaded. The resulting detonation will level this entire Complex within 24-seconds. There's no possibility of disarming them in time,” Luna raises a warning. 

GBX was a high, military grade bio-explosive, built upon the concept of binary explosives. The bio-sentinel carries natural chemicals in their body. The implants introduces a foreign substance triggering a sub-atomic explosion. 

Dragon Phoenix raises both hands bathing the whole chamber in light. Bio-sentinels dissolve in thin air, teleported outside, while encasing everyone else in protective Class-7 bubbles. Muffled, but still   
piercing explosions erupt a quarter mile above the complex. The detonations prove so potent, leaving little, if any, traceable evidence of the bio-sentinels. 

A fiery miasma and serrated shrapnel batters the ceiling causing sections to collapse roundabout those inside. Both large and small chucks of concrete beat against their protective bubbles. Women and men duck instinctively trying to avoid being crushed beneath tones of falling debris. The chaos settles down. Council members dust off their clothes and reluctantly take their seats again behind their raised platform eyeing her, now, more timid than ever. 

Care To Listen Now

“Care to listen now?” She derides their timidity. 

Every council member nods yes.

“Good,” she smiles appreciatively, “I'm not done with her defense. I'll admit, Dr. Director's part jackal. This woman can lie in your faces. Her pulse will remain stead, and hands calm. What can she say in her own defense, that you'll believe. Nothing. She's a spy. Her life's build upon lies. She lies each and every day, and does so very convincingly, simply to stay alive. 

Hence, let's call pure logic as our next witness. Dr. Director may be many things, but definitely not stupid. Even she wouldn't trigger those bio-sentinels fail safes, which is what occurred moments ago. Knowing full well, their detonation would level this whole complex with herself, still trapped inside. Can we at least all agree, here, on this point?” 

“I... I ca... I'll concede that point”. 

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Here,” she lays more paperwork before him. 

Ivan Pedrov and his colleagues wail over everything that'd just happened, and now, she's handing them more paperwork. “What's this for?” 

“Simply this,” she plainly states her objective. “Hydra agents instigated this civil war between G.J. and S.H.I.E.L.D. by impersonating Director Fury and Dr. Director. Their doubles gave orders, exactly like Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans' double did when he called Colonel Dixon to relay Aurora Knight's rogue status in leveling a hospital and killing over 20 civilians. S.H.I.E.L.D. almost launched its own pilots against ours, and on American soil, nearly touching off an international incident, like Hydra intended, all along. And, while we're busy squabbling among ourselves, they could obtain those scrolls and that WMD, along with possibly getting the two major intelligence groups disbanded, which'd foiled their plot one time too many in the past”. 

“That makes sense, but again where's your proof, Miss?” 

“Here's some,” she meet Councilwoman Cox's supplication. “Double check that mysterious signal, which allegedly originated from Dr. Director's office”. 

“What for?” Mavis Harris didn't see the connection. 

“Hydra's supreme leaders aren't stupid. That organization didn't last this long without being careful. Supreme Hydra Strucker anticipated we might uncover the secretary's double; therefore, proving the secretary of defense never authorized attacking that agent. And that was why he was killed the next morning. So, this little plot couldn't so easily be traced back to Hydra”. 

“You traced it back unto them anyway,” Alexa Diaz complains. “What good did it do?” 

“Sow confusion. And quite effectively, I might add, base on your reactions. Don't you agree?” 

Not a single council member makes a comment. 

Dragon Phoenix moves on with the point, “There was always the chance we would connect them. Supreme Hydra arranged their doubles to leave false evidence implicating both Fury and Dr. Director. I absolved Fury's guilt, and doing the same for her, if you'd do as I say. 

Double check that phone call, allegedly where Dr. Director passed along falsified G.J. INTEL. On purpose. And to Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans, labeling S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight a terrorist. I've already proven beyond a shadow of doubt. First, Dr. Director couldn't have spoken with Nevans. He wasn't in the country during that time. Have your digital tech run a Level-4 analysis on that signal. That will conclusively prove, secondly, this duplicitous signal originated from a GSM clone phone, very similar but not hers”. 

I'll Make My Last Point, Brief

“Cloned phones?” Pedrove scoffs, getting his nerves back. 

“Cloned,” she doesn't balk under his piercing lour. “A clone phone can replicate the master's phone's numeric equipment identity, but not its exact radio fingerprint. Second, I'd suggest examining her SIM card. I'll bet it has been tampered with, too. And, if that doesn't dissuade your doubts, correlate her phone's GPS with her daily itinerary noting any discrepancies. 

You see, the master phone and cloned phone cannot operate simultaneously, or it'd alert the carrier about the cloned phone's existence. Her carrier will meanwhile treat both phone's identical, recording their GPS locations, even the tower accessed and time. That should prove, Dr. Director didn't make the call in question here. Her protection detail will prove her being elsewhere, 20 miles away”. 

“Unless she deceived them using a double, like she's done so many times in the past,” Esther Cox spew the first most logical excuse that hits her mind. 

“Of course, we can't deny that possibility,” she admits the possibility. “I cautious you against not thinking this through better, or you'd realized your argument's futility. You say, it proves her guilt, when, in reality, it exonerates the very woman you're using it to prosecute”. 

“How?” 

“Simple, Mr. Chairman,” she counters with a smile. “Directorate logs prove, Dr. Director used her G.J. laptop and password with bio-marker scans necessary in accessing Rec-Pos-3...” 

“Ah, hell,” Rick Gomez loses his temper reading the implications here. He tosses his copy of her evidence across the room.

Donald Perez shared his companion's frustration. They'd built a solid case. And this smooth talking femme-fatale shredded it to pieces within an hour. “So what,” he disputes this fact's relevancy, “even Deputy Director Loretta Croft can access that repository”.Rec-Pos-3 was Global Justice's most closely guarded secret server. 

“True,” she doesn't dispute his claim, only his interpretation of the evidence, counter arguing, “only three people could access Rec-Pos-3: Betty Elizabeth Director, Loretta Croft, or Chairman Ivan Pedrov. You, Sir”. 

Chairman Pedrov snaps his head up, contentious over his name being mentioned and his colleagues all eyeing him and the director, together, suspiciously. 

“The question is,” she builds upon their momentary distrust, “can one person access that repository, which requires a palm scan, retinal scan, and voice print, simply to confirm the accessor's identity, to deceive the world's most sophisticated security system into thinking he/she's someone else entirely? Possible? Yes. But, not unlikely. Especially with over 30 of the GSC best shadowing her every move. Couple that with Rec-Pos-3's activity logs and we can prove. She accessed this repository exactly when and where her GPS and security detail testify she was”.

It was humiliating enough, she'd discredited their case so damn easily. Her using their own people and files only intensifies that mortifying experience. Chairman Pedrov bangs his gavel, wondering, how their people missed such gaping holes in their case. 

“Director, maybe you should fire you legal counsel and hire her. Something tells me, she'd replace all them, and more. This inquiry's over. We find insufficient evidence to carry this any farther. We'll still have to probe the charges alleging you crossed national and territorial borders without the proper authority, resulting in numerous injuries and deaths, even severe property damage”. 

“I understand, Sir”. 

“What about those innocent agents, Mr. Chairman?” 

“They'll be released within the hour, Miss Phoenix” Chairman Pedrov simply gets up and storms out without another word. Other council members mimic him leaving in a huff, too. 

An Unexpected Reaction

Dragon Phoenix accompanies Dr. Director and her what's left of her Global Justice legal defense team outside the complex. They'd just exited the building's double doors. Dr. Director turns towards her impromptu defender, “I should thank....” 

“Save it, Lady,” she snub her courtesy. 

“What...?” Dr. Director looked genuinely confused. 

“Shut up and listen,” Dragon Phoenix makes her feeling known. “Don't delude yourself. I don't care whether you're guilty or innocent. I saved your backside for one reason”. 

“And that is?” 

“Your brother's joined Hydra”. 

“Oh, Dear God,” Dr. Director shakes her head. She wished to feign shock. She couldn't. 

“Go ahead, prayer never hurt anyone. Fact is, you can pay me back very easily”. 

“How's that, Chiyoko?” 

“I detest hurting people,” she states her position on violent, “but will, as you saw in chambers, when the choice came down between us or those bio-sentinels dying”. 

“I understand, Chiyoko”. 

“I pray you do,” Dragon Phoenx assures her. “Your brother's threatening me”. 

“What will you do?” 

“That's why I came to your rescue,” she reveals her motivation behind this helping hand. “You must handle him”. 

“And if I fail?” 

Dragon Phoenix raises both hands. Making sure she had her subject's full attention. Three claws morph into five. “Your brother learns firsthand what getting torn apart alive by a humanoid wild animals really feels like, like those in Japan. It seems poetical, seeing as he's fed enough WEE agents unto sharks and gators of the years. Do we understand one another, Director?” 

“Sure, sure,” Dr. Director backs away very slowly. “You're a mutant, aren't you?” 

“I'm not human, mutant, or alien”. 

“What are you then?” 

“A deadlier breed. Speak with Fury. Thor can tel you enough about me. Just mention my real name, Aconasema,” she retracts her claws dissipating more with each step. 

*

“Director, who was that?” Carl Wexler, Dr. Director's chief of defense, asks with growing curiosity. 

“Both my savior, and greatest enemy”. 

“Did she tell you her name?” 

“Her name's Chiyoko Hanamura, Old Friend. Just as she said inside chambers”. 

“What'd she want? I mean, really?” He process more of what she said inside chambers. 

“Tell me my brother's joined Hydra's ranks. She claims she hates hurting people. For that reason, I should stop him, or she would”. 

“With those claws?” He actually cringed at that thought. 

“I only know two mutants matching her prowess: (1) Jean Grey, the Dark Phoenix and (2) James 'Logan' Howlett, a.k.a. Wolverine. Base on what I've observed, she possesses her mother's powers and her father's legendary temperament”. 

Carl Wexler glances back, where the mutant last stood, processing that revelation. “Wow,” was the only word that come to mind. Just then. He was so intimidated. 

One Good Turn, Deserves Another

“Nick, these were delivered unto my office by accident”. 

“Did security check them, Roxy?” There'd already been two attempts against his life in 24-hours. 

“Cleared,” the deputy director of S.H.I.E.L.D. assures her oldest and dearest friend. 

“What's inside?” 

“X-rays shows, a note and DVD”. 

Fury tears open the envelope dumping its content. Sure enough, a note and DVD drop against his desk. The note simply read, “It's probably been a while since you've attended a family reunion. You'd better make plans, very soon. Little Jaky joined Hydra. He's made his first attempt on my life, signed, Dragon Phoenix”. 

He picks up the DVD. Another sticky note read, “A copy of a similar conversation I had with your arch-rival, Dr. Director, of Global Justice. Her brother's being naughty, too”. 

Fury pops the DVD into his computer. A video popped up on his screen. Dragon Phoenix affronts Dr. Director outside the GSC complex. She told her basically the same thing as him. 

“What does that mean?” 

“War's coming,” he sounds ominous. 

“Between mutants and humans?” 

“I don't think so,” Fury shares his gut feeling. “She's fought too hard to prevent that. Whatever does occur, Dragon Lady will no doubt be stirring the pot. I just wish I knew whether she's friend or foe. It hurts me to have to agree with this mutant, or whatever the hell she is. We can't handle what's coming alone. We need Global Justice's help”. 

“What!?” Roxy squawks, acting like he'd broken one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cardinal rules. 

“Dragon Phoenix may be many things,” Fury profiles their elusive mutant. “She isn't patriotic or sympathetic. So ask yourself, why'd she come to both mine and Dr. Director's rescue?”

“How'd she come to your aid?”

“By exposing those traitors and Maddox's involvement in this breach, or else the board wold've held me solely responsible”. 

“And how does that relate unto this message”. 

“Ask yourself this. Why'd she give us similar messages, both concern our agency and sibling?” 

“I can't imagine why,” she shrugs her shoulder. “Her actions defy logic”. 

“That's because you're forgetting what she said unto GSC Chairman Pedrov”. 

“Forget? Nick, really?” She rolls her eyes chuckling softly, “Who could? She babbled something about logic not always being logical, and foolishness sometimes making more sense than logic. Don't tell me you buy such swill?” 

“Buy it? No. Understand it? Sort of. Point is. Don't let her eccentricities distract you, Roxy. And you, too, will understand her underlying message”. 

“Alright, Einstein, what's she telling us?” She oppugns, trying to keep the edge out her voice. 

“Simply this, united we stand, divided we fall. Both us, Dr. Director and me, as directors, and our agencies, agents, and people we protect the world over,” he sums up this mutant's motif. 

“Touche,” she nods, walking out his office.


	15. An Impassioned Plea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim's clone takes a turn for the worse. She's dying. Little Hanna, Kim's blood daughter, adopted by the Stoppable family, makes an impassioned plea. Save Kimmie. 
> 
> Kim must save herself without exposing her being the prophesied WMD. Joining their essences won't explain such a magnificent recover. She could only do this one way, fusion. Aconsema and she must fuse together as one entity. The fusion process strains her already taxed mental faculties. She does all this, while waging a war with Hydra, protecting Global Justice and SHIELD (who're trying to kill her), and prevent this escalating into a war between humans and mutants.

A Tearful, Assertive Plea

Dragon Phoenix reappears beneath the catacombs. She only desired some time alone. Instead, she's met by a hysterical little girl screaming, “She's dying. She's dying”. 

Dragon Phoenix turns, instincts sharp, spotting: a small 6 year old oriental girl, silky long black hair, mottled skin tone, and wearing floral print summer dress. She pointed a damning finger, “And it's your fault. And yours...alone”. She shouts, stomping her right foot. 

“And that's my fault, how?” Dragon Phoenix dismisses the cute, but pesky young girl, and starts to walk away. Kim knew, she couldn't give in too easily, else it'd blow her cover and endanger her family and friends, more than she'd already done. 

“Hanna, calm down”. 

“Not this time, Mama,” the little girl evades her mother. 

Olivia Stoppable steps back, mortified. She'd never openly defied her, and what's more, she accosts this dangerous mutant, must adults avoid like the black plague. 

“I know who you are! Really are!” 

“Great kid,” Dragon Phoenix ignores her heading deeper inside the catacombs. 

“Aconasema,” she shouts in a language, not even Ron understood. 

Dragon Phoenix stops cold as does Hanna. She drops her head and exhales sharply, fighting back her own tears. She turns, walks back over and kneels in front of her, smiling warily, and pinches her crunched nose, “As do I know you, Little Warrior. What does the Great Hans wish from me?” She petitions back in the same strange language. 

Hanna wipes her teary eyes sniffling, but still angry, “Save Kimmie?” She resumes speaking English. 

“I can't”. Dragon Phoenix not short on her own tears. 

“Yes, you can,” she rebuts behind more tears. 

Olivia Stoppable goes to intervene. Her daughter'd annoyed the dangerous lady long enough. 

“Mom, don't,” Ron rests a knowing hand on her right shoulder. His father and mother stare at him inquisitively. 

“Mom, Dad, Hanna knows what she's doing. She's made a connection with this mutant. She may be the only person alive, who can reach Dragon Lady”. 

“Little One,” both parents hear this mutant break, near tears, “you don't know what you ask”. 

“I don't care. She'd be alive,” Hanna imitates Kim's famous 'puppy-dog' pout. 

A Father's Right

“Professor, what're you doing down here?” Dragon Phoenix ceases his presence. Never looking behind them. 

“I heard, Dr. Possible rushed her daughter back into emergency surgery. McCoy's helping, along with our two best APRN surgical nurses. Her chances aren't good”. 

“Save her,” the little girls makes an impassioned plea. 

“And I sensed this young lady reaching out...to you,” he reads between the lines. “What does she know we don't, Chiyoko?” 

“Just another excuse for father to hate me worse,” she replies, now wiping her own tears. 

“Him? Is dat why yuz let Kimmie die?” Hanna shouts with balled up fists. “She set yuz pree, and be yur priend, not caring what udters tink. And yuz just trow her away. Fur what? Him?” Hanna points right towards where he'd been hiding. 

“Hey,” Wolverine drops off the ceiling. Claws deployed, only meaning to scare her. 

“Father, stand down. Mine,” she deploys and strikes her claws together, "are sharper and can carve adamantium, like butter”. 

“Logan...”

“Not this time, Chuck,” Logan retracts his claws stepping around his mentor. 

Aconasema relaxes a little, but not enough to retracts hers. 

Professor X notices their tension, but senses Wolverine making headway. 

“It's past time Princess and I have some father/daughter bonding”. 

“Okay, father, what's on your mind?” 

“Is this bawling brat...” 

“Hey,” Hanna protests, shaking her fists. 

“Hanna,” Ron picks up his little sister. 

“Is she right?” Wolverine demands behind a deep scowl. “Can you save that red heifer in the OR?” 

“Why should you care?”. 

“Look, don't brush me aside,” he points in her face. “Not this time”. 

“Why not?” She shoots back without a moment's hesitation. “You've brushed me off every since I first arrived here”. .

“I only meant to rile you...” 

“Well, congratulations, father,” she mangles the appellation, “you succeeded”. 

“No. I didn't,” he clarifies what he meant. 

“Of course you did”. 

“No, I didn't,” he drops his head. Voice low and full of regret, “I only riled you, hoping you'd drop your guard, and maybe I could get a blood sample to prove your paternity”. 

“Oh, I see,” she process what he'd admitted. She didn't want to blow this breakthrough, if indeed that's what this really was. 

Wolverine had just met his daughter. Though a different person, he still sensed a part of her mother present in everything she said and did lately. He perceives her wrestling with hurt and anger, but doubly confused, upon hearing, “I don't care about that test anymore. I only care about you. Can you save this kid? Yes or no?” 

Ritual of Transcendency

“Yes, I can,” she deadpans. 

“What?” James Possible couldn't stand idle any longer. “How, Miss? Tell me what my little girl needs, and we'll get it somehow, someway”. 

“She needs 'Other Kimmie,'” Hanna points towards Dragon Phoenix. 

“Of course,” Ron slaps his forehead with his right hand. And he lightly grips his sister's in the left. “You're Aconasema”. 

“Took you long enough, Sidekick,” she acknowledges her identity. “That was my mother's temple, you and Carrot-top stumbled inside, and where Mariko Yashida put me into stasis...” 

“...Til my daughter freed you, right?” 

“Yes, Mr. Possible,” she confirms. “She'd been shot, while running from some very dangerous men. She stumbled into my temple. Whether by destiny or accident, you must decide for yourself. Me? I believe destiny brought her through my doors. For both our sake. She crawled into the Earth chamber, even drank from its murky waters of separations. Her blood seeped down its corners mixing with the pool priming the temple, and releasing me from stasis, and inversely condemning anyone else who'd dare enter its hollowed halls ever again”. 

“You located her inside the Earth chamber, passed out cold and dying. You joined your essences healing her physical injuries, didn't you?” 

“Very perceptive again, Blonde,” she marvels over his intuitiveness.

“What does he mean you joined your essences?” Wolverine and James chorus together. 

“Simple. A goddess, I don't require a physical body. Like the Phoenix Force joined but never fused with Mama, I joined with healing Kim Possible. She awoke some time later, unaware of my presence, what I'd done, or how badly she'd really been hurt”. 

“Well, I don't see the problem. Do it again,” Ron sides with his sister. 

“I couldn't, even if I wanted to, Sidekick,” she apologizes. “Our essences are already joined, have been nearly a decade. In fact, that's partly why she's dying now”. 

“Wait,” James jumps to the wrong conclusion, “ you're hurting my little girl”. 

He launches, only to be caught by Ron, and told, “Calm down, Mr. P. That isn't what she's saying”. 

“Miss, I think I understand your concerns,” Professor X conciliates this little misunderstanding. “Correct me, if wrong. Essentially, your essences are already one. You simply became her...for lack of a better term, her symbiote. Two minds. Two wills. Two personalities. Both sharing one body. That arrangement never posed a problem before. You could come and go without her health suffering. Obviously, something occurred inside that temple forever changing your relationship's dynamics. For you. And her. Do you know how this could've happened?” 

“She defeated all five of my temple guardians, and performed the 'Ritual of Transcendency'”. 

Rippling Implications

“Oh, no,” Professor X drops his head rubbing his chin. Eyes sad and heart heavy. Quite unsure how to break the implication unto her family. 

'Oh, no,' was never good. Dan Stoppable caresses his sobbing wife. 

This professors prolonged silence wore a father's last nerve. “Professor,” James pleads, “what'd that do to my little girl?” 

“In short, the two, that is, your daughter and Aconasema, are one. Dragon Phoenix can no longer exist physically without yours, and your daughter will die without her symbiote...

Other Kimmie, as Little One called her. 

...or Aconasema, unto us. 

Simply joining their essences won't be enough, this time. Yours and Wolverine's daughters must fuse, essentially becoming one entity”. 

Ron didn't comprehend exactly what he meant. So, he draws on every movie about fusion, he'd ever watched, jumping unto some wild conclusion. Topping his list was, “This isn't one of those 'one lives, one dies' type of things, is it, Professor?” 

“Parts of us both will cease to exit during the fusion process,” Dragon Phoenix deigns, a little too calmly for Ron or James' comfort. 

“Is this some joke to you?” James charges. 

“Joke? Hell no. Fact is. I'm the only person here thinking with her head, and not just her heart”. 

“If you have one...” 

“Dr. Mr. P, calm,” Ron intercedes. “What do you mean by that, Aconasema?” 

“Yes, I can save her,” Dragon Phoenix states candidly. “The question is, should I?”

“Yes. Yes. A t'ousand times, yes,” Hanna importunes, not accepting no as an answer. 

“Ah, Little One,” Dragon Phoenix tears up again, “I'm hunted day and night. Never resting, always running and looking over my shoulder. In fact, that was the main reason I joined with Carrot-Top in the first place. I could hide in plain sight, no longer having to harm people simply to survive another day”. 

“Mr. Possible, Sidekick, she's too young. She'll never understand what else I'm about to say. Maybe you two can. I can fuse with and save Kimberly, easily. You must realize and accept, she won't be the same person ever again. Our fusion will irrevocably change us both forever”. 

“When you say change...” James leaves the rest hanging, not wanting to repeat the horrors running through his overactive imagination, just then. 

“My presence will infused her with my powers, even rewrite her DNA, so her body can wield those powers. She may still be a Possible in her heart. The Kim Possible the world knows and loves won't exist any longer. She'll become...well, me, Bella Rosealba Jayden, a.k.a. Chiyoko Hanamura, or Muramasa, unto the Japanese Yakuza. She'll be hunted by every government, underworld figure, and vigilante on this globe, right alongside me”. 

“Why?” Ron senses the hammer about to drop. 

“The Viper's Eye scrolls speak about a weapon of mass destruction. Believe me or not,” she sighs heavily summoning every ounce of courage, “I'm that weapon”. 

“You?” Wolverine gets uncomfortable in her presence. “You can strip a mutant's powers?” 

“That, and more, Father,” she senses his tension. How could she blame him, after what mother did, almost destroying humanity, even injuring him severely. 

“Do it, pwease,” Hanna make one last impassioned plea. “Kimmie wants dis. I's knows”. 

Dragon Phoenix kneels down with arms open wide. 

Hanna discerns her answer, even before she says it aloud. She dives into the woman's arms, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” kissing her cheeks. Over and over. 

Dragon Phoenix pinches her little nose commenting, “Kim and you are the only ones, who knew me, the real me, and didn't want something for yourselves. In fact, you have her heart little one. You plead on her behalf. And that honors me. I do this, even now, only for your, my Little Hans”. She relays in the same cryptic language. 

Dragon Phoenix stands back up. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and face him but says, “Bye, Father”. 

“Wait, bye? Why bye?” Wolverine protests. 

“There's a small chance, either one or both could cease to exit. I didn't want that to happen, and you not know, I now understand your initial reaction towards fatherhood, and I forgive you. I hope, some day, you can forgive me, too, over calling you all those names”. She doesn't even wait on his response dissolving in thin air. Her heart couldn't take his rejection, and still keep a level head. 

In The OR

A bright light sweeps over the OR. Anne Possible snaps her head around, “What are you doing in here?” 

“Saving her life,” Dragon Phoenix replies. 

“Get out”. She bids in a calm voice. 

“You can't be...” Dr. Possible starts to countermand this mutant's authority. 

“Get out,” she shouts more authoritatively. No one moved a muscle. Eyes locked upon the mature redhead. “Now!” Dragon Phoenix screams, a crackling fire encasing her whole body. A fiery column opens above the operating table. Invisible forces reach out pinning everyone there against the nearest wall. The OR internal temperatures steadily rose. 

Anne Possible deduces relatively quickly, fighting this mutant would only end in disaster, theirs and her daughters. Who knows? Maybe she could save Kimmie. She'd failed as her mother and doctor. 

The fiery column dips down over the operating table spreading wider towards them. And it wasn't in their heads. The heat seared hotter against their exposed flesh. 

“Everyone out! Now!” Anne shouts. And no one argued bolting towards the nearest exit. The doors slam shut of their behind them. 

Anne stood, eyes glued on the observation room's window, pensive over this mutant's intentions regarding her little girl. 

Dragon Phoenix turns, facing Anne and spreads her arms out wide. Eyes locked with hers. Kim's heart machine flat-line. The prolonged bleep confirms what no surgeon or mother ever wishes to hear. 

Anne covers her mouth. World crumbling around her. Both knees buckle. A waterfall of tears roll down her cheeks. Nothing could stop them. She collects her composure peeping inside. 

The fiery column sweeps over the mutant obscuring her view. Each second becomes an eternity. The miasma dissipates relatively quickly, leaving a floating ball of light, gravitating towards and fusing with Kim. Her whole body, every limb, every muscle, jerk involuntarily, as if hit by thousands of volts of electricity. Not once. Or twice. But, multiple times. Like, this mutant was resuscitating her baby. 

Her vitals jumps several times. Body phasing in and out. Only to crash and flat line again and again. Another jolt passes through her body. Kim's heart monitor starts to beep, erratic, at first, but gradually levels off. She coughs sharply, gagging in-between, exhaling old air and inhaling fresh. Her chest rose and fell in sync with her lungs fighting to replenish her oxygen supply. 

A crimson mist settles over the OR again obscuring their view. Fusion complete. Wounds healed. Health restored. Kim knew, she couldn't simply leave major surgery amidst so many witnesses. She would be painting live targets over her family, friends, and strangers, too. She does the only thing she could. Kim creates a double with injuries comparable with hers, just moments earlier. 

Several minutes pass in nerve-wracking uncertainty. The haze slowly began to dissipate. Everyone's vision restored, somewhat. Dr. Possible couldn't make out everything going on inside the OR. Only, her baby's vitals seem to be stronger, and stabilized,...against medical science. 

Dragon Phoenix staggers outside the OR collapsing. Dr. Possible rushes over sliding beside her next patient. The mutant's whole body phases several times til totally dissipating into nothingness. 

The New And Improved Me

Dragon Phoenix reappears inside an isolated section of the catacombs, after putting on such a truly convincing show. She raises her hands. 

Ron and Hanna appear in the same section of tunnels. 

“What the...” Ron rasps, shocked and terrified by the assailing darkness. 

Hanna interrupt him by screaming, “You're alive! You're alive!” 

“Hanna,” he reaches out. 

She dashes past him leaping high into the air. Mottle toned arms reach out the shadows catching and hugging his little sister tight. “I'm alive, My Brave Little Girl, because of you”. She speaks in the same cryptic language again. 

“I knew she could save you, Kimmie”. Ron hears his little sister boasting. 

“KP?” Ron stops dead, asking with considerable uncertainty. Her face still concealed amidst this old crypt's abundance of eery shadows. 

“Relax, Ron, it's me,” she steps into the sparse light. 

“No way,” he steps back, noticing...a 5'5” (165.1-cm) tall redhead with ruddy skin tone, pinkish-red eyes, fiery red hair, and wearing a jet black catsuit, identical unto Dragon Phoenix's. 

“Yes, way,” she assures her best friend. “Remember. She warned, if she saved me, I'd become her. Well, ta-da,” she spreads her hands turning very slowly, modeling her new shapelier, curvier body, “it's me...well, the newer, sexier version”. She twirling modeling herself, “What do you think?” 

Ron didn't blink, whistle, move, or blush. He simply stood there. Staring with his mouth agape. 

“I guess, that's a boy's way of saying, he approves the way I look,” she tickles Hanna's stomach. 

“K....P....” He draws out her name. Longer than need be. Embarrassing himself, and making her very uncomfortable. “So,” he tries to recover, “you two are one. Fused, I mean”. 

“Complete”. 

“What about your fam, K.P.?” 

“They won't miss me, Ron. I...” 

“Won't miss you? Don't be crazy! They love...” 

“I don't doubt their love. Truth is, they don't know me...” 

“But, she said...” 

“I created a double of me...well, the old me, and erased their memories,” she tells him point blank. “They think she's me, and still recovering from her injuries”. 

“Why KP?” 

“Ron, you heard Chiyoko. Let out, Kim Possible's this weapon of mass destruction prophesied in those Viper Eye scrolls. Every government agency, underworld figure, or power hungry vigilante will hunt down our families trying to use them as leverage, maybe even kill a few, to make a believer out of me, just so, I'd be more cooperative and do their bidding, which I couldn't do, even to save my little brothers, or they could use me to destroy the world. Only Hanna and you know my secret”. 

“What about whiskers and the brainy guy?” He asks, meaning Wolverine and Professor X. 

“Only you two,” she lies, a necessary evil in her new life. If only Shego could see her now. 

Stage Set

Kim hands Hanna back into Ron's waiting arms. She could sense his tension, over currently being in her presence. She beams them back into the catacombs. 

“Did you manage to save her?” Professor X greets. 

“She's alive, and recovering nicely,” she relays its time to move everyone. “Moving her won't pose any threat to her health any longer, Professor”. 

“What's your plans now, Betty Cracker?”

Kim turns all dark and ominous. She deploys her claws so fast. Ron jumps back, startled, eyeing her nervously. “I'm gonna lather up every Hydra faction and their allies, slap some meat between each slice, and force feed these bastards, til they're so delirious, they'll turn on each other tearing off their own allies' heads, literally. Are you in, Father?” 

“Let's play” Wolverine deploys his own claws. “

“Professor, gather up your people and get ready to move. At least temporarily”. 

“We can't,” he raises a logical objection. “You destroyed our X-jet”. 

“Even better, Hydra won't suspect you moving. And besides, your jet couldn't reach where you're heading. Here,” she throws him a kimmunicator, “Luna will guide you through these catacombs. Once there, board my spaceship...” 

“Whoa, you...” 

“...have a spaceship?” Tim shares his brother's exhilaration. 

“Decades ahead Alaina, even,” she boasts with a wink. 

“Luna will take you unto my secret base, Professor,” she eases his mounting concerns. “All your students, faculty, you, and these people should be safe there, til this is over”. 

“Father, are you sure you want to come along?” She gives him a last chance to bow out gracefully. “I'm already wanted dead or alive, internationally. You could, too, before this is over”. 

“I can't let you have all the fun....I mean,” he revises his earlier comment, “expose yourself to such danger, and simply sit idly on the sidelines. Who knows? I've been wanted a time or two, myself. Just maybe I   
can share some tips on how to cope and stay hidden in plain sight, Kid”. 

“That would be appreciated,” she laughs hard shaking her head. She knew what he meant. All to well. She felt the same way. 

“Professor, til we meet again,” Dragon Phoenix and Wolverine vanish before their eyes.


	16. Sometimes All It Takes Is A Little Finesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra initial plans scrapped. Strucker wasn't dissuaded against starting this war between humans and mutants. In fact, he was more determined than ever. And he'd come up with the perfect way. It'd start, and no one would ever suspect Hydra's involvement. Even better, he could possibly end up Supreme Hydra over all Hydra factions, if everything worked out. SHIELD and Global Justice would take the fall for his war.

Sounding The Alarm

Kim and Wolverine spent the next week digging into Senor's company. True enough, it appeared legit on paper. Something wasn't right. Senor purchased a defunct Trinidad metallurgical research firm, Metallicus Enterprises. Its smeltery once responsible for importing/exporting half of Trinidad's raw ore. Senor purchased the company for pennies on a dollar, even acquired its smeltery equipment. 

Senor gave it an heir of legitimacy renaming the company, San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc., and even putting it into the new CEO's name, Francis Rowley. His job was basically show and tell: keep board members, duped investors, and legitimate clients happy, while Senor personally handled less reputable side of this venture, at least til Drakken complete Project Metallacore.

Francis Rowley rushed back into slamming his office door. He didn't wait on catching his breath snatching up his telephone dialing his emergency contact's untraceable cell phone. 

Nicole Lambert was born and raised in Port-of_Spain, Trinidad. Her family emigrated here from London, England, in 1802. They'd built some real family roots. The possibility of leaves never crossed her mind, unlike most her friends. Ambitious, methodical, and contentious, she majored in criminal psychology rejoining the Security Intelligence Agency (SIA) in 2010, while managing Hydra's many island assets in Trinidad and Tobago. 

Agent Lambert answers her call on the 3rd ring, “Cole Fox, state the nature of your emergency. You have three minutes and counting”. 

“My name's Francis Rowley, CEO of San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc. The Trinidad and Tobago Police Services (TTPS) and two teams of SIA agents, supervised by Lieut. Commander Terrance Smythe, raided our corporate headquarters confiscating records about our board members, employees, clients, even order records dating back six months, for some reason”. 

“Did the lead agent asked about anyone or anything specific?”

“Yes, Ma'am, he did,” he dabs his sweaty forehead. “Lieut. Commander Smythe mentioned, he'd been tipped by an American FBI informant, responsible for closing sixteen high profile international cases, about this company being involved with kidnapping and enslaving a Dr. Drakken and 32 other scientists around the world and forcing them to work on something called, Project Metallacore”. 

“Did he say anything else?”

He recoils in pure terror detecting her tension. Know, this project wasn't legit; black hat. People associated with such projects are paranoid about security, and tended to solve problems by making their sources disappear without a trace. “Yes, Ma'am,” his voice squeaks nervously, “he threatened he'd have a forensic architectural team here by 9:00 a.m., tomorrow, combing every square meter of this building and grounds, including running seismic and battery of satellite scans”. 

“This is very disconcerting,” she abruptly hangs up without warning. 

Rowley hangs up, too, laying his head on his plush mahogany desk, exhaling sharply. 

*

“Jules, Act One coming to a close,” Wolverine signals his partner. 

“Copy that. Getting ready for Act Two,” Kim speaks in code, filing doctored confidential informant paperwork with the FBI's New York office. 

Baiting The Messenger

Mason Von Richter had managed Hydra's North America's northeastern operations for many years. He'd only become more paranoid since his unofficial promotion, as Supreme Hydra Strucker's right hand man. His horoscope warned, 'Are you thinking about taking that big step in a new direction. You should beware, trouble waits nearby, today's the day that may change your tomorrows. Forever'. 

Richter wasn't what you'd say superstitious. He simply believed, he didn't get this far by tempting the fates. He lays aside hearing his land line ringing. He snaps up the receiver on the fourth ring, “Von Richter here”.

“Sir, I'm Hydra Agent Cole Fox. Trinidad, in the Caribbean. We have major trouble here”.

“Nothing you can't handle, I assume”. 

“It's not that, Sir”. 

“Then what merits you wasting my time, Agent Fox?” 

“I received a frantic call early this afternoon, exactly 1:15 p.m. She relays CEO Rowley's report about the TTPS and SIA's raid. Point is, they're coming back tomorrow with a forensic architectural team dissecting every square meter, including 1,500-meter subterranean scans”. 

“What precipitated this raid?” 

“I was curious about the same thing,” she relays his concerns. “So, I checked intelligence reports and international assets, discovering. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents were embedded with the SIA strike teams”. 

“What?” 

“My reaction exactly, Sir,” she drives home her next point. “So, I dug into why they were present during this raid”. 

“And what'd you learn?” 

“It seems, American FBI claim they have new evidence who's behind the attempts on S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Kim Possible's life, which once included Agent Aurora Knight, too, Sir”. 

“Don't remind me,” he groans, despising her name. “The boss still hasn't calmed down over her outfoxing him by diffusing his humans vs. mutant war,”. 

“I wouldn't know about that. That's above my pay grade, Sir,” she skips their controversy. “Anyway, Special Agent Matao Salvatore with the FBI's New York office cultivated an as-of-yet unidentified confidential informant, responsible with helping him close over sixteen high profile international cases, and who has pointed his/her finger directly at Hydra. Whatever evidence the FBI has, it must be damn impressive. Lyron Deen, Senior SIA Director, personally selected the TTPS officers and SIA teams, even appointed Lieut. Commander Terrance Smythe to lead this raid, Sir”. 

“Pfft! Is that all?” He starts to relax, not see any reason for all this alarm. 

“No, Sir, it's not”. 

Richter sets back up. He tightens his grip around the receiver leaning closer, “Does Rowley know anything about this?” 

“No, Sir,” she eases some of his worries. 

“What does he know?” 

“Legally speaking, the company's in Francis Rowley's name”. 

“Good”. 

“I wouldn't relax just yet, Sir,” she shares more bad news. “Lieut. Commander Smythe suspects Rowley with kidnapping someone named Drakken and over thirty leading cyberneticists and forcing them to work on a secret experiment, Project Metalllacore”. 

“What else?” Richter drums his fingers in deep frustration.

“Nothing I know about, Sir”. 

“You handle things on your end. I'll do the same here”. 

“When will I hear your decision?” 

“I'll alert the boss about this situation, and relays his decision about Rowley within 24-hours, Agent Cole Fox”. 

“I await your decision, Sir,” she hands up. As does he. 

Act Two: Rattling Cages

Emily Drabber didn't consider herself good or bad, only carefree. She figured, what's the harm? Her parents always harped about one thing or another. She mocked their advise, equating such notions as accountability with legal shackles, imposed upon young people by old people in authority, just to make make her as drab as them. She believed this so strongly. She defied her parent by opting against attending their alma mater. 

Instead, Emily attended community college learning to be a secretary. She'd reached her limit with her old man. Always on her back. How she'd never amount to anything. She moved out the next day and in with a girlfriend. Young, shapely, and a provocative dresser, she didn't have any trouble getting a man's attention. That's how she landed her job as Matthew Lorenzo's secretary, Director of the FBI's New York office. 

They'd dated nearly two years. On and off. Nothing exclusive. Oh, she'd tried dating other people. Nothing worked out. Matt would 'threaten advise,' even 'mock arrest,' anyone jumping his claim. He'd done this more than once. She'd grown bored with his, long before their relationship soured. She slept with him now simply for job security. A new love interest, Marcus Calhoun, added a little spice back into the drudgery, she called her life. 

“Emmy, please come into my office,” he calls over her com. 

'Oh, great,' she fumes behind her seductive smile, wondering, 'does he want me for more office sex, or simply another senseless, menial errand?' She barely gets past his office door. 

“Here, get me the confidential informant file SNC-16-X008, code name Avalon,” he throws her a set of keys. He snatches up his telephoning dialing someone, smirking. 

Emily turns and leaves his office. Her heels click loudly with her heavy stride. She couldn't believe he asked her....to do this. Not only was it against FBI policy, but illegal. At least, she was pretty sure. What'd it really matter? He always says, 'I never broke a single rule, simply bent them unto my liking'. She approaches the C.I. Vault: really a locked room with locked file cabinets.

Emily unlocks the door, eases inside, and shuts the door, quickly, before the wrong person saw her inside here. She shuddered to even consider the consequences. Em searches til finding the right file cabinet rifling through its middle drawer. She extracts SNC-16-X008's C.I. File, surprised by how much bulkier this one was, when compared with others she'd handled in the past. She peeks inside the file folder. Her skin lost its complexion over what her eyes saw. 

She handled hundreds of files every day. She seldom gave little a second thought. This one wrecked her world. Tears swelled up behind her eyes. Stomach knotted. Her limbs turn to mush. A thousand 'maybes' and 'what ifs' assail her mind, simultaneously. She closes the file, exits the vault, not really caring now if anyone saw her, making her way down the hall and back inside her boss' office. 

Her boss/bf hears his door open glimpsing up. He spots her standing before his desk, file extended and holding her stomach with tears in her eyes. “That time of month again, Em?” 

“Yes, Sir,” she lays the keys on his desk avoiding direct eye contact. 

“Take a few minutes, darling,” he suggests a break. “Wash up. Take your med. Eat something. Do whatever's necessary to erase such pain from your gorgeous eyes”. 

“Thank you, Matt...I mean, Sir,” she lays 

“Matt will be fine...but only when we're alone,” he winks in her direction accepting the file. 

Setting The Pigeon Free

Emily slips out his office, slides open her bottom desk drawer, and grabs her purse. She grabs her stomach like having sharp menstrual cramps. The raven haired seductress slips into the ladies room's nearest available stall. She reaches inside her purse retrieving her cell phone. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, as trembling fingers dialed her secret boyfriend's number. 

“Mason Von Richter here”. 

“Avalon?” She sobs, nearly losing it hearing his voice. 

“Emma?” Richter rasps, not over the name, but her knowing his real name. “How'd you get this number, Darling? 

“Tell me the truth. Please. Are you married?” She pleads sobbingly. 

“No. Of course not. But...”

“Darling, you know where I work. I never lied”. 

“I know you didn't,” he mollifies, trying to keep her calm and milk her at the same time. He knew, his cover was blown with this one. “I'm sorry I did. It's just...” 

“None of that matters, just now,” voice squeaky and tears heated. “Darling, I love you. And you're... no, we're in serious trouble”. 

“What're you talking about, Em?” 

“Marc...I mean, Mason...” There was a long pause, as Emma collected her senses. “My boss has a huge file on you”. 

“About me?” 

“You,” she reiterates, letting the silence speak in volumes. 

“What kind of file?” 

“Confidential informant”. 

“What!?” He clamps his mouth shut lowering his voice. 

“Who? Why?” He whispers, knowing, walls have ears these days. 

“SAC Matao Salvatore filed paperwork naming you as his confidential source against someone named, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker”. 

“This definitely isn't good”. 

“Don't worry, Baby,” she tries to reassure him. “I can intervene, keep my boss busy, maybe delay the FBI contacting you”. 

“How long?” 

“A week, maybe less,” she sounded actually disappointed. “It's the best I can do, Darling. Maybe that will give you enough time to find out who's framing you? And why?”

“Wait? You believe I'm innocence?” Her trust shocks him tremendously. 

“There never was a shred of doubt in mind mind, Darling,” she shows her support. “Someone is setting us up by planting evidence”. 

“What kind of evidence?” 

“My boss' file contains damning pictures of you meeting with SAC Salvatore, complete with times, dates, places, and payout amounts”. 

“Payouts for what?” 

“Payouts in exchange for your giving up your boss' secrets”. 

“I'm so dead,” she lays his head on his mahogany desk. “Anything else”. He closes his eyes bracing for the worst. 

“SAC Salvatore mentions in his last report, you're thinking about turning state's evidence”. 

The longer this conversation dragged on. The worse his world came crashing down roundabout him. He resisted the urge to simply hand up. Knowing he might yet need this source again. 

Emily senses his tension and loss of words. “Go ahead,” she breaks the silence, “clear our names, Darling”. 

“I will,” he brushes her off hanging up so fast. He misses the our in their conversation. 

Bent, And Broken

Mason Von Richter slams down his phone. He curses his horoscope, even the fate's sadistic sense of humor. Terror shrouded his mind like death's cloud. Mind reeling with every imaginable death, his boss might impose. Upon him. Over a lie. He needed solid evidence to exonerate his name, or paying the price for failure would be the least of his worries. 

Richter presses a secret button under his desk signaling his personal chauffeur. He grabs his dinner jack exiting his office. “Jackie, cancel all my appointments today. Something private's come up”. 

“Yes, Mr. Von Richter,” his secretary replies, only he didn't stick around for small talk. 

He makes his way out his office and down the hall. Palms sweaty and pace hastened. Eyes shifting to and fro, just to make sure he wasn't being followed; which would indicate, he'd already been marked for death. No one yet. She breathes a little easier. 

Bells ding and down arrow lights up. Von Richter steps onto the elevator. Its doors slide shut and wench kicks into action lowering the small cubicle. Department music played over the speakers. The same bells ring out again. His cubicle jerks unto a stop. The elevator doors barely creak open, before he squeezes out. 

His chauffeur was there waiting. Smiling gleefully and holding his door open. Von Richter climbs into the back seat sliding over. His chauffeur walks around the car climbing in behind the wheel. He turns over the ignition, throws the gears into drive, and pulls out the parking deck and turns left making his way towards the air port. That was the last thing Von Richter remembered. 

* 

Von Richter wakes with a start. Cold water washing over him. Head to toe. “What the hell...?” He yawls, glimpsing around his cell, yanking his arms, but realizing, both arms and legs fettered by chains into his cell wall. “Hello!” He calls out, only hearing his own voice echo. 

“Hello!!” He bellows louder. 

“Ah, you're awake”. 

“You,” Richter grits his teeth eyeing the 5'5” tall flaming redhead wearing her mother's iconic suit. “Chiyoko Muramasa, I presume”. 

“Among other names,” she saunters into his cell. 

“What do you want?” 

“Answers”. 

“Oh, you won't get me that easily. You see, I caught S.H.I.E.L.D.'s telecast of you coercing those heroes' doubles into admitting their own duplicity in committing crimes in their names”. 

“Figured as much. And besides, you're way more intelligent than those muscle bound morons,” she flatters him a little. “I have something more personal in mind. For you”. 

“And what would that be,” he scoffs over her veiled threat. 

“Oh, it's real simple,” she walks over yanking off his cellmate's hood. 

“Noah,” he recognizes his chauffeur. 

“This,” she thrusts, her right hand phases through his chest cavity. The chauffeur abruptly awakens out his slumber screaming like a lost soul descending into Tartarus. Eyes opening wide, not blinking. Retinas palpating. Head rolling. Limbs jerking violently. Luna projects his erratic arrhythmia and respiration around the cell. Relaxing her grip ease his agony; just as tightening it, only amplified and prolonged his hellish agony. 

Wolverine storms inside the cell protesting, “What do you...” 

“Father, I can't allow you to interfere,” invisible hands reach out pinning him against the door. He struggles with his full might, unable to break free. 

“Chiyoko, don't do this. There must be a better way,” he tries to reason with her. 

“I can't believe the great Wolverine could be so easily domesticated. And by what? A mutant troupe of boy scouts,” she spits back. “You must realize, people like him are animals, only worth being put down, and hard. Embrace your savagery, again, Father, maybe you'll survive what comes next”. 

“As for you,” she meets Richter's glare tightening her grip. He cringes, her message loud and clear, as she yanks out his chauffeur's still beating heart. “This is yours, and your entire family fates, unless you tell me what I wish to know”. 

First, he's bent by someone planting fake evidence; and now, broken by a psycho mutant, who'd murder her own father, to get what she wanted. “I'll cooperate”. 

“Good,” she simpers, gloating over the fact. He didn't know, her 'victim' was his driver, but a clone. 

A sentient drone comes in dragging out the body. Another cleans up the blood. Richter couldn't take his eyes off them, til even Wolverine leaves the cell. 

Give Me The Goods 

“Start talking,” her hands glowed crimson orange. Same color, before plowing her hand into Noah's chest, literally manipulating his heartbeats. 

“Supreme Hydra Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker planned everything,” he blurts 

“What do you mean?” Her finger phases a quarter inch into his chest. “You'd best be specific,” she challenges him with a sinister scowl.

“Hydra's behind everything—the attack on Possible, the hospital, even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier...”

“Wait, that isn't possible,” she disputes his claim. “S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite surveillance identified the Japanese CIRO, Brazilian CIA, and Russian GRU with ambushing Possible's team in Algeria”. 

“Of course they did,” he doesn't dispute those fact, only. “They were allies”. 

“Allies, hey? Please explain something. Why'd they turn on one another, after killing S.H.I.E.L.D. Commander Moreheim's team backing up Team Possible?”

“Power and greed, it's that simple”. 

“Okay. That makes twisted sense. Except, how was your boss behind that attack?” 

“Japanese CIRO, Brazilian CIA, and Russian GRU are mortal enemies, but occasionally work together, when it benefits everyone involved, as when they slaughtered Commander Moreheim and his team. Supreme Hydra embedded double agents amidst all three outfits. Each band sought the same objective, which believe it or not...”

“For their country, no doubt,” she shakes her head pitting them. Every last one. 

“For the most part”. 

“No doubt, seeking that weapon of mass destruction, every intelligence agency's been clamoring about so much over the last several months”. 

“The same,” he ignores her mocking tone. “Anyway, Supreme Hydra embedded double agents, just so, when whoever found that first scroll, our agents could initiate an inter-agency fight, eliminate those involved, all without drawing suspicion to Hydra, and we could claim our prize, the scroll”. 

“What caused you to turn on one another so early then?” She pokes holes in his account of events. 

“Possible's car,” his eyes turn cold staring out the window. “Damn thing came out nowhere and gunned down our people on both sides so fast. All three units panicked, assumed the worst, and turned on one another, before we caught onto her ruse. Anyway, Hydra agents left alive made it inside that temple, only to perish under mysterious circumstances. Making matters worse, we can't go back inside. She blew up the temple”. 

“Alright, I'll admit, that, too, sounds logical. But,” she moves onto, “you boasted, how your boss spearheaded the attack on Possible's home, too”. 

“He did,” Richter attests with prideful glee. 

“Yea, I bet,” she maligns his boss. “Even he isn't smart enough to coerce WEE into joining his merry band of loser”. 

“Coerce? Is that what you figure?” She shoots back with harsh laughter. “Gemini joined us of his own freewill. Nothing more, nothing less”. 

Sometimes It Takes A Little Finesse

“So,” she pricks his pride a little more, “your boss simply asked, and Gemini, of his own freewill, amassed his forces, over 250 men and women, simply to attack two kids' homes”. 

“Some kids,” he deigns over being sorely mocked. “That redhead bitch slaughtered every last man and woman, not sparing any”. 

“And getting herself shot up in the process,” she stokes the coals of his rage. 

“Shot up,” she curses her very name. “She'd be dead, if not for you damn mutants protecting her”. 

“Is that why you tried again at the hospital?” 

“Yes...” 

“No....”

“I mean... I don't know what I mean,” he cries in boiling rage. 

“Which is it, Richter? You can't have it both ways”. 

His thoughts scrambled momentarily, he spouts, “Saran was behind that attack. Not us”. 

“You just got done boasting,” she faults his testimony, “how, no one acts without your boss' direct authority. Now, you expected me to believe, what? She went rogue and Struckers didn't retaliate”. 

“Initially, no...” 

“So, she did attack the hospital under Strucker's permission”. 

“Yes, but exceeded her delegated authority”. 

“How'd she exceed that authority?” 

“First, she hired outsiders to steal those synthodrones. From Global Justice's 'secret” Wyoming warehouse. Three G.J. security specialists were killed during that robbery. If for no other reason, she should've eliminated those responsible, over being so sloppy, and set them up as the perfect fall guys. Does she? No. She escalates her stupidity by contacting Myles Daley, VP of HenchCo to update these things with his company's reserve parts. 

Of course this attack failed miserably. Aurora Knight rescued Agent Possible, even delivered the syntho-Shego's unto S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top scientific minds. Maddox and Daley panic, only then realizing their mistake. Authorities might never trace those parts back unto them. Hydra surely would. Hence, Saran coerced Daley into hiring Frugal Lucre to strong arm Lieut. Commander Alexander DeSoto of Global Justice's New York Branch into passing along falsified INTEL, in exchange for canceling his outstanding gambling debts totaling over $65,000. 

Daley proved so stupid. He paid DeSoto's bookie and Frugal Lucre out HenchCo's discretionary account, held with one of Hydra's establishments overseas. Luckily, authorities couldn't track those bills' serial numbers. Dr. Director passed along tainted INTEL. Only, as proven during her GSC trial, she never spoke with Secretary of Defense Walter Nevans. Instead, she spoke with none other than Supreme Hydra over the Americas, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, who impersonated Nevans so convincingly, he deceived Dr. Director and Colonel Isaac Dixon.

Dr. Director passed along the INTEL about S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Aurora Knight going rogue by killing innocent civilians, demolishing a hospital, and kidnapping a patient. The colonel acted in good faith dispatching Lieut. Elaine McInnis of the Eastern Air Defense Sector's 224th ADG to either talk Knight down or blow her out the sky. This incident only threw gasoline on the tension already brewing between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice, and made it appear as thought Dr. Director, the Senior Director over Global Justice, was gunning to murder two of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents”. 

“Both directors would've been the perfect patsies in all this, except for my intervention”. 

“Yea,” he sneers over the irony. “You derailed our best laid plans”. 

“Hey, what can I say, sometimes it only takes a little finesse,” she boasts with a smile. 

“Finesse,” he scoffs. “You don't know the meaning. Hydra kept everything low key. That's true finesse, Lady. Your over the top shenanigans were anything but tactful”. 

Preemptive Action 

“Finesse? Is that how you define it? Seemed more like preemptive action to me, Richter”. 

“You must understand what parts we played, and where she overstepped her authority, Lady”. 

“Help me distinguish your roles then,” she paces in front of him. 

“Supreme Hydra Strucker over the Americas instructed Supreme Hydras Modok and Doctor Octopus over Europe to create clones of four Avengers—Thor, Captain America, Hawkeye, and Iron Man. When ready, Hydra kidnapped them inserting our doubles, who'd gather us vital INTEL on both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. 

Nurse Patty Morse was the charge nurse at MMC. She alerted us about Possible showing brain activity again. S.H.I.E.L.D., Global Justice, Hydra, and countless other agencies worldwide came up dry. She delivered S.H.I.E.L.D. a fake scroll. Supreme Hydra Modok intended on extracting her memory engrams to find out where she'd hidden the real one. 

Saran Maddox created a whole in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security around their agent. Only, we didn't predict that mutant, Aurora Knight, sticking so close or cleaving our nurse asunder, and transporting that nosy redhead, her family, and friends aboard the helicarrier, or so we thought, based on INTEL we received straight from Saran. And we saw no reason to doubt her word. 

The boss activated our X-Men doubles, which inevitably led unto your exposing the Hydra Four as well. Cyclops and Wolverine's doubles stole the X-jet attacking S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. Storm and Rogue's doubles failed their mission trying to breach cerebro. News agencies carried this storm far and wide. Mutants lead preemptive attack against law enforcement. 

Supreme Hydra Strucker felt, an unmerited, preemptive attack would not only ignore a bloody war between humans and mutants, but S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice. In fact, state and federal politicians and legislatures, as well as cops, federal agencies, and various committees would be so damn busy pointing finger. Governments and law enforcement alike wouldn't recognize Hydra's plan til too late”. 

“All this was done under Strucker's authority, where'd she overstep hers? And what was the core objective of his?” 

“Objective?” He cracks up laughing. “Simple. Keep S.H.I.E.L.D.'s forces busy till ours could get Possible off their helicarrier”. 

“The Hydra Four, right?” 

“Exactly,” he gloats over their plan's brilliance. “Only, Aurora Knight replaced our targets with robots”. 

“No, she didn't,” Chiyoko accepts responsibility. “I did”. 

“You already knew the Hydra Four were spies, didn't you?” 

“Let just say, I had my suspicions, and leave it there. So, let's get back on venue. How'd Saran defy your boss and overstep her authority”. 

“Supreme Hydra Strucker never intended on activating those sentinels...” 

“At least not yet”. 

“Well,” he revises his statement, “not until legal authorities gave their permission by declaring war on the mutants. Only, Saran got greedy. She stole those units' operational codes, again using European Hydra Supreme Modok with framing the Possible twins and Dr. Load with attempting to murder S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents Kim Possible and Aurora Knight”. 

“How? We never detect an Ohio or Vanguard class submarine in the bay. And only they could've fired a Trident II Missile”. 

“European Supreme Hydra Modok restored a sunken Ohio-class submarine firing a Trident II Missile, when signaled by Saran's plant inside the medical facility. I don't know his/her identity”. 

Heart of the Issue

“Enough about that,” she switches gears. “Where did Strucker move the kidnapped scientists after I blew up Eon-A-Core Research, Int., underneath Serenity Oasis Clinic?” 

Richter loses two shades of skin tone. She discerns his mind reeling with questions, like. Does she really know? If so, how much? Who told her? What does she plan on doing?

Kim decides to pacify him a little. Maybe he'd open up more. “Look,” she become bluntly honest, “I already know about Project Metallacore”. 

“Any specifics?” His limbs trembled contemplating the possibilities. 

She knew, that mean serious trouble. Especially for the young and innocent. “Maybe not specific, specifics. I'm sure about this much. Metallacore's a reboot of James Possible's Hephaestus Project, dedicated to stabilizing the metal, which loses its cohesion after replicating itself a few times. And that was only Phase One”. 

“You know about Phase Two?” He blurts, two shades lighter then before. 

“Well...” She taps his cheeks playfully, “To be honest, I didn't know, know. Call it a hunch. Your boss may be many things. Paranoid tops the list. It's what has kept him alive and in power this long. I knew, he'd never put all his eggs into one basket. If important, he'd split the project into manageable parts. For added security, just so the scientists later couldn't so easily reassemble the pieces to figure out what this project was really about. Now, I answered your questions, answer mine. What's Phase Two of this project?” 

“I don't know specifics,” he tries to distract the issue. 

“Tell me what you do know,” she sticks with the issue at hand. 

“Fine,” he accedes, seeing she wouldn't be mollified so easily. “Phase #1 dealt with creating living metal. Phase #2 entails the merging of this living alloy with bio-matter”. 

“No doubt, to create new, stronger, near indestructible androids, sentinels, bio-sentinels...” 

“Who knows? The possibilities are limitless,” Richter exclaims, hoping she believed him. 

Hick-Up In The Plans

Truth was. She didn't believe him. She perceived his deception, but opts against pressing the issue. Instead, she probes the issue from a different angle, “Where's Phase Two being researched?”

“I don't know”. 

Kim read his mind. She both knew he was lying, and where the project's 2nd phase was located. She simply needed him to smile for the cameras, for the rest of her plan to be effective. “Wrong answer,” she shoves her phased hand through his chest grabbing his heart. Luna marks the jump in heartbeats just like his chauffeur. 

His respiration increases, each breath labored and rugged. Sweat pouring down his brow. He cuts his eyes pleadingly, begging for mercy. She only tightens her grip. He couldn't hold his pain any longer crying in bitter hell. Arms stiff as board. Veins bulging over exerted respiration and heart arrhythmia, fast approaching tachycardia. 

“I...ta...lk,” he mutters, over ragged breaths.

Kim relaxes her grip. A little at a time. Monitoring his vitals. To ensure he didn't go into cardiac arrest or worse, and possibly die. 15 minutes. She works on calming him back down. At least enough to question him some more. 

“Let's try this again,” she repeats the question. “Where's Phase Two stationed?” 

“Sydney, Australia, at Sten-Wauhl Enterprises,” he yawps, seeing her start towards him. Hands engulfed in crimson orange, “But, Phase Two's held up, til Phase One's complete, unless the project manager receives word”. 

“How long til it's complete?” 

“We projected three weeks over two weeks ago”. 

“But...” She senses his lingering doubts. 

“I doubt that idiot can deliver on time”. 

“What happens if he doesn't?” 

“Assassins are already among the Senor's servants. Supreme Hydra Strucker will signal them, and then it's curtains for all the Senors, the baby, too, even Drakken and Shego”. 

“In that case, would Phase #2 be scrapped? Or what's their contingency?” 

“Oh, no, it can't be canceled. I'm positive about that much. Phase #2's scientists would simply proceed their phase with the alloy available. It's better than nothing”. 

 

“And what would their next assignments be?” 

“Like you guessed earlier, create androids, sentinels, but specifically bio-sentinels. They've been so productive lately, at least til you arrived on scene”. 

Insult To Injury

“Who's watching over this project?” 

“Scorpio”. 

“Fury's brother?” 

Richter snaps his head up eyeing her suspiciously. That wasn't common knowledge. Surely she was somebody tied with international intelligence. “The same”. 

“Why him? He's so....” She leaves the rest hanging, like searching for the perfect adjective. 

Richter falls into her trap, “Young, naive, impressionable, easy to manipulate; just like that fool, Gemini, who fancies himself a criminal mastermind”. 

“That makes no sense,” she dispute his assessment. “Why would Strucker leave a child in charge of his greatest project ever?” 

“Fact is, he didn't”. 

“But, you just said...”

“Yes, yes,” he doesn't dispute what he said, only what's behind the scene. “Technically, Australia isn't part of the Philippines. Scorpio isn't one for tradition. He annexed Australia, Austria, and several surrounding nations and territories into his empire. Hence, my boss appointed Scorpio as head over his research...well, for many reasons. 

It relieved his insecurities by making him feel like he belonged, was truly one of us; a trusted ally. Truth is, he isn't really the head. As expected, Scorpio delegated responsibility for assigning guards at this post. We waited a while, let Scorpio inspect the facility, get comfortable with the illusion, he really controlled Hydra's massive research project, built in his empire. 

Supreme Hydra Modok hacked his computers shifting around some guards. Now, we have enough of our people in place. So, when the time comes, we can take back what's rightfully ours. Scorpio and Gemini will take the blame over creating these abominations. In the end, though, Hydra will rise again and take power, as was always meant to be. Why else would we orchestrate a war between Fury and Dr. Director, and inversely their agencies, too?” 

“I see,” she smiles, admiring their subtlety. “What about Modok and Doctor Octopus? Will they get part of Scorpio's territory?” 

Richter laughs aloud. “Don't make me laugh. We'll take theirs and his. Supreme Hydra Strucker will be supreme over all. Scorpio and Gemini aren't even fit to be inside Hydra. Both men act like squabbling children, driven by petty revenge...against a sibling,” he condescends. “Such pettiness will only serve to unnecessarily expose Hydra's operations, before we intend. 

Modok and Doctor Octopus are Hydra material. Both men smart, focused, and driven. Only, they have no loyalties, not even to one another. Heaven only knows, how their partnership lasted this long. One dispute and their relationship would crumble around them. Our position is, if they can't even trust one another, how can we trust either?” 

“Where's the scientists?” 

“Nx-Gen Research, International, a subsidiary of Sten-Wauhl Enterprises, in Sydney”.


	17. Every Good Turn Deserves Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dissension starts among Hydra's ranks. Strucker tries to squelch its spread. His right-hand man goes missing. Fearing he'd betrayed him. Struckers issues a bounty on Ritcher's head. He becomes cold, and ignorantly aids Kim in staging a civil war among Hydra's factions.

Identifying The Mystery

“Did you located Richter yet?” 

Axle Hans was German-American. His grandfather fled Germany, before Hitler's reign of terror. He was born and raised in America. At 18, he joined the military becoming an Army Ranger. He did a 5-year stent, leaving the service in 08, proceeding his CIA recruitment. Axle was assigned to infiltrate Hydra. That assignment connected him with his family roots, even motivating him to switch sides. For real. Now he offered his tracking skills to locate and eliminate any potential threats, if necessary. 

“No, Sir,” he replies. 

“What did you find?” 

“I found Richter's car”. 

“Where?” 

“JFK Air Port”. 

“Are you positive?” 

“Positive,” Axle replies with certainty. “He chartered his private jet. His pilot filed a destination plan...” 

“Where?” 

“Trinidad Island”. 

“Why would he go there without alerting me or his secretary first?” 

“I don't think he did, Sir”. 

“Hans, you're starting to try my patience. Enough with the suspense. What do you have?” 

“Fact is. You man may have left New York. Only, not by freedom of choice”. 

“Kidnapped?” 

“We believe so, Sir,” Axle assures his employer. “Kristof, my partner, and a team of forensic specialists combed every square inch of his limo”. 

“What'd they uncover?” 

“We pieced together a sequence of potential events. You must understand, certain parts may be speculative at best. Here goes. Von Richter was inside his office. His secretary noted him receiving a call at 1:45 p.m. He spoke with the caller around 10-minutes. I checked with our contact within the phone company. She revealed, it was an international call originating in Trinidad”. 

“Who called from there?” 

“Agent Cole Fox”. 

“What was the trouble? She wouldn't call simply to chit chat”. 

Unraveling The Mystery

“I suspected as much, too,” Axle displays his competence. “I contacted Agent Cole Fox. She said, she called your man alerting him about a potential security risk, here, in America, particularly in New York, that'd spilt over into Trinidad”. 

“Why kind of breach?” 

“Remember Senor Senor's company, San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc.?” 

“CEO Francis Rowley, right?” 

“One and the same, Sir,” he affirms his sharp recollection. “It seems, yesterday, around 8:15 a.m., the Trinidad and Tobago Police Services (TTPS), two teams of SIA agents, along with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents, disguised as SIA, and led by SIA Lieut. Commander Terrance Smythe, raided San-TechX ransacking Rowley's office and confiscating everything about the board members, employee records, client orders, even our order manifests, usage each month, and shipments over the last six months”. 

“Why such scrutiny for a random spot check?” 

“Agent Fox's concerns proved justifiable in this situation. This wasn't a random spot check. Over 30 of the world's leading cybernetics disappeared over the last eight months. It seems, an FBI confidential informant pointed his/her finger at San-TechX”. 

“Who is this person?” 

“We don't know yet, Sir”. 

“Go on”. 

“Let's one fact straight, before proceeding, Sir. American FBI never identified Francis Rowley, as the one behind these kidnappings, only a person of interest. Lyron Deen, Senior SIA Director, though, immediately set his sights on Rowley, as Trinidad's primary suspect. An inside source says, Global Justice and S.H.I.E.L.D. suspect he played a part in these kidnapping, but Senor Senor's their primary target. Authorities hoped...” 

“Rattle the pawn hard enough, maybe he'd lead them unto some hard evidence against his boss?” 

“My guess, too, Sir,” Axle moves on. “Agent Fox sought Von Richter's advice about whether or not she should terminate Rowley?” 

“I'll handle that task personally. Go ahead with your report”. 

“Yes, Sir,” Axle cedes Strucker's authority. “Von Richter told her he'd consult with you and get back with her within 24-hours”. 

“Apparently, he wasn't planning on going anywhere,” Strucker scratches his chin perplexed. “So, what changed?” 

“Maybe his last caller can clarify that situation?” He poses, gesturing towards the door. “If I may show her inside?” 

The Plot Thickens

“By all means, show her inside,” Strucker leans back in his posturepedic memory foam chair. 

Axle opens his office door, “Come inside, Miss Drabber”.

A nervous 5-ft (152.4-cm) shapely brunette in a provocative sun dress stumbles into the office. Her eyes downcast, not daring to look Strucker in the eyes. 

“Who are you, Young Lady?” 

“My name's Emily Drabber, Matthew Lorenzo's secretary, Director of the FBI's New York office”. 

“Axle,” he shouts, boiling mad, “how could you be so damn stupid?” Strucker draws his .357 contemning, “Confidential informant, indeed! You brought her straight to my office”. 

“You don't understand....” She goes to set the record straight. 

“You dare speak...in my presence,” she shouts, winging her right shoulder, “and without my direct permission”. 

Emily grabs her shoulder nursing her wound. She turns to face the madman. A cold determination emanating in her eyes. “Kill me, if you must,” she bids the man with the gun, “I will have my say”. 

“Very well, Miss, you have three minutes, make them count”. 

“It's true. I work under Director Lorenzo. I've fed Marcus...I mean, Mason...” 

“Wait, what's this Marcus business?” 

“Mason cultivated me under the name Marcus Calhoun”. 

“Cultivate you?” 

“Yes, Sir. I'm his asset. Not the other way around,” she sets the record straight. “He'd ask me about certain cases. I'd feed him bits and pieces. Why else would I keep that job? Hell, paws don't know when to   
keep his hands to himself. Anyway,” she tosses a file atop his desk, “this came to my attention early yesterday, when my boss requested a file from the vault”. 

“What is this?” 

“A confidential informant file”. 

Strucker opens the file. His skin lost several shades instantly. There. Before his eyes. In black and white. His oldest and dearest friend/colleague topped the FBI C.I. list. “What is this? You claimed he cultivated you?” 

“He did,” she didn't flinch. “Have your people examine that file. You'll learn, even as I know. Oh, it may appear official...with its FBI seals, signatures, and legalese, but trust me, it's a forgery”. 

Strucker lowers his weapon. He'd made a career reading people. It's how he rebuilt Hydra after his father's death. He knew, this young lady really believed what she was claiming. And knew there must be a good reason, if she'd stand up to him holding a gun on her. “How can you be so sure?” He asks. 

“Two things, simply. First, the Human Source Review Committee never signed off on this asset. Second, the SAC (special agent in charge) over this alleged asset never signed this form. In fact, I had his signature tested by four independent graphologists, who weren't even remotely tied with the FBI, against other documents he signed in my presence. And they concluded, just as your people will, when you verify what I'm saying, this signature's a forgery. A damn good one. But, a forgery nonetheless”. 

“You called Mason, yesterday, simply to warn him, didn't you?” 

“Yes, Sir,” she confirms, but adds. “I resolved, this clearly wasn't a practical joke. No one would risk their life and time in prison, if caught, over something so juvenile. There had to be something more clandestine behind this, maybe a coded message of sorts. Someone was gunning for him, probably watching him a while, and, if so, probably had pictures of us meeting, and me passing him documents. I wanted him aware, so maybe he could catch them, saving both our lives, Sir”. 

“Jolene, please show this young lady out and tend her wound, before sending her on her way,” he bids his private secretary. 

“Don't leave the city, Miss Drabber, we may still need to speak again,” he cautions her against trying to run. 

“Oh, rest assured, I won't be going anywhere,” she assures him. “Running's the farthest thing from my mind. It'd only put Mason in more danger by alerting those behind this we're onto their game. Right now, we have the upper hand. He/she/they don't know we suspect anything,” she winks, before following the nurse out. 

Something Doesn't Add Up

“What about the car?” Strucker directs his attention back towards his chief investigator. 

“The back seat contained two distinct stains. Initially, we suspected he may have simply spilt some alcohol or some other beverage. Mass spec proved us partially correct. Von Richter did spill alcohol, Magnum Grey Goose Vodka, to be specific”. 

“Grey? That can't be a coincidence”. 

“Our thoughts exactly”. 

“What else did you uncover, Axle?” 

“A saliva stain mixed within the vodka stain, Sir”. 

“Saliva? Was he drooling?” 

“Mass spec detected an halothane vapors within the seat's synthetic fibers”. 

“He was gassed?” 

“We think so,” he confirms that much spelling out the sequence of events. “The parking deck's surveillance cams captured him sliding in the limo's backseat. He must've poured himself a drink, as his drier pulled into oncoming traffic. We believe, he was gassed shortly thereafter. And that's when he fell over spilling his drink, and slobbered more the longer he lay there, incapacitated. By the saliva stain's depth and diameter, we suspect he lay that way nearly 26-38-minutes”. 

“Alright,” Strucker concedes that much, “what about his plane?” 

“Whoever's behind this, he/she/they chartered Von Richter's private plane for Trinidad, but never boarded the jet”. 

“Why? A ruse?” 

“I don't think so, Sir,” Axle shares his suspicions. “Some might suggest, he/she/they did this simply to lay a false trail. I caution you against being so easily presumptuous. If you do, you'll surely miss vital clues. This trail serves a duplicitous purpose”. 

“What do you mean, Mr. Hans?” 

Using only his last name was never a good sign. It meant, the boss was losing his patience; which wasn't all that uncommon these days. “Well, Sir, I won't argue. Those behind this laid a false trail. But, ask yourself. Why sent us to Trinidad? By definition, a false trail's meant to distract or keep us from locating the perpetrator's identity or whereabouts. Only this trail led us right unto them faster. That leads me to conclude. Those behind his abduction wanted us there. In Trinidad”. 

“Why?” 

“It's a message, specifically to you, My Lord”. 

“Me? What for?” 

“Only you can answer that, Sir,” Axle Hans prayed his boss didn't think he was placating him. “I'm positive, Von Richter wasn't their intended target. You were”. 

“Explain how you reached that conclusion”. 

“Whoever's behind this must've tipped the FBI, S.H.I.E.L.D., and Global Justice about Rowley's operation. The SIA and TTPS, along with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice, raid his corporate office less than 12-hours later. It can't be coincidence. This informant meant for you to receive word. Only, your man intervene and got himself captured, instead of you”.

“If I'm understanding correctly,” he sums up his logic, “you're saying this mutant set up Rowley, and alerted authorities. Knowing, the SIA and TTPS would raid his company. He'd panic and contact me. All, so....she could get her hands on me”.

“Pretty ingenuous plan, if you ask my opinion. She just didn't calculate your people's loyalty, Sir”. 

“Then, where's Richter?” 

“We don't know yet. Our people are combing this globe. We'll find him, Sir”. 

Strucker doesn't say anything. He simply gets up and walks out. 

Tightening The Reins

“Senor!” 

“Supreme Hydra,” Senor Senor literally chokes out, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Are you still 'vacationing' on your Caribbean Island?” 

“Yes, Sir. Why do you ask?” 

“We have a problem, or rather you do, if you catch my drift”. 

He'd heard about authorities raiding his company. Senor Senor perceives, a security risk cropped up threatening their project. Now, Hydra expected him to solve this problem. “What shall I do, Sir?” 

“You have 48-hours,” he tightens the noose. “Wrap up this negotiation and settle with both parties, or we lose everything. Do you understand me, Senor?” 

“Crystal, Sir”. 

“Good. I never repeat myself without serious consequences”. 

“That won't be...” Strucker hands up halfway during his, '...necessary'. 

A Loyal Traitor

A clanking noise shook the slumber out his eye. Richter hadn't sleep for 48-hours. He'd been here, wherever here was, nearly 24-more. Pure exhaustion shut his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. Richter lifts his head spying an older, late 50s or early 60s, Philippino maid pushing a mop bucket with broom handle sticking out inside his cell. He notices a unique mark tattooed on her right wrist, flag of the Philippines, framed within an infinity symbol. His smile broadens, ignoring his own aches and pains. Scorpio marked his followers with the same sign. He boasts it marked their very soul. 

“English?” 

She turns, as cold, weary eyes scold him. Head to toe. She says nothing. 

“Do you speak English?” He asks again. 

“Yes”. 

“Hail Hydra”. 

Her eyes light up behind a gleeful smile. She bows her head and kisses her tattoo with great pride. A solemn gesture attesting her loyalty. “Who you serve?” She asks. 

“Supreme Hydra Strucker over the Americas and surrounding territories”. 

“You in Cebu City, Philippines,” she names his location. “Supreme Hydra Scorpio help”. 

Richter was sure, he'd made a connection with this older woman. He rattles his chains, “Free,” and gestured his hands towards his cell door. 

“Ahh,” she reaches into her hair bun retrieving a hair pin with a glowing smile. She hobbles over, one leg stiffer than the other, possibly from a stroke. She didn't let that slow her down. “Me, Bea,” she touches her chest, and proceeds to picks his chain locks.

Richter stretches his arms and legs. His bones snapped and popped loudly. Never so stiff and sore, over standing so long on his feet. “Where do I get Scorpio's help?” 

“Wear dis,” she hands him a small device. 

“What's this?” 

“Make up like me,” she touches up her bun smiling. “No give second glance”. 

Richter understood, even her butchered English, and didn't debate it usage. He only cared it'd help him escape. He slaps the micro device on his right sleeve activating its underlying circuitry. A wave of light washes over him, til an balding older Filipino gentleman wearing a flannel shirt and suspenders stood where he stood. Richter touches his face, just to make sure it's real. And it was. 

“Cool,” he attests with much ado, “a hard particle disguise simulator”. 

“Huh?” Bea looked very confusion.

“Never mind. What now?” 

“Here,” she hands him the mop. 

“What's this for?” He detested being treated like a servant. 

“Clean,” she motions washing the walls. “Guards no suspicions. You maid, too”. 

“Janitor. Not maid”. 

“Bah,” she shrugs both shoulders. Like, 'Whatever. One's a man, other a woman. Both are merely cleaning servants'. Bea gets busy cleaning. She didn't bother checking on him, figuring, if cleaning was beneath him even to save his own life, he deserves getting caught and killed by the guards. 

Richter initially balked being treated like a servant. And then, he heard three guards making their rounds. He set aside his pride getting busy. A guard stopped by his cell 30-seconds later. Bea was right, he didn't give them a second glance. Nor did he notice the prisoner not...

Nah, no guard would be that incompetent or distracted. He glances back, more suspicious than anything else. His retinas radiate with shock. Bea chained a lifelike dummy in his place. No wonder the guard didn't make trouble. He studies the older woman, warily. Here, he thought he'd tricked her. And yet, she had this plan available all the time.

“Work,” she urges, noticing him about to give them both away. 

Both clean the entire cellblock, upper and lower levels, every cell and every corridor, even walk right past the guards with little more trouble than giving their names. Fake names. Six minutes later, they emerge out the complex standing under the Philippine sun. 

Richter laughs aloud twirling around. Head leaned back. Arms outstretched. Skin soaking up its amber ray. 

“Dis way,” Bea beacons him. 

“Oh, right,” he follows closely behind his guide to safety. 

Face To Face

“Mason Van Richter,” a sharp, distinct voice reaches out behind. 

Richter spun around on his heels, almost loosing his balance. He spied a 5'10” (177.8-cm) 185-lbs (83.91-kg) man with cold blue eyes and brown coltish hair. “Scorpio,” he recognized him easily. 

“You'd best be glad, Bea, here,” he gestures towards the elder maid/agent, “found you when she did, Von Richter”. 

“Why's that, Sir?” 

“You're serious? Actually serious?” Scorpio suppresses biting laughter. “You honestly don't know, do you?” 

“Know what?” 

“Supreme Hydra Strucker over the Americas and surrounding territories learnt about your being kidnapped”. 

“Good,” Richter breathes easily. “I'll bet, he put the word out for my safe return”. 

“He put the word out alright, just not in the way..., you might suspect,” he loses it laughing over his gullibility. 

“What are you babbling about?” 

“There's a standing kill order on your head,” Scorpio points his M4. His LED sights painted over his heart.

“What're you doing, Scorpio?” Richter hoists his hands nervously. 

“Your boss must think you know too much....maybe about his operation”. 

“So? What's your point?” 

“He put a $50,000 bounty on your head,” Jake Fury declares with a predatory smile.

“What are the contract's terms?” 

“Rescue, if possible, or put a bullet in your head,” he fires a shot just past the ex-prisoner's head. 

Von Richter dives on the ground covering his head yelping, “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I could put a hole in your head. Right here and now. Your boss would never know the difference. I'm just testing to see which I prefer”. 

“Prefer, over what, Scorpio?” 

“Ah, c'mon, even you can't be that stupid,” Scorpio stokes Richter's greatest fears. “It's costs me several millions per month running this operation. Point is, it ain't cheap. I kill you I earn $50,000, free and clear. What's my incentive for keeping you alive, and returning you unto your boss' service?” 

Every Good Turn

Richter stares down his barrel. A thousand thoughts racing through his mind. The top, how could his boss write him off so easily? He'd faithfully served the man over 24 years. He knew, either build some rapport with this madman, or go home in a pine box. His eyes turn stone cold quipping, “You're a good one to talk. I'm not the only pawn in his sick game”. He insults both Strucker and Scorpio. 

Scorpio perceives but ignores the insult, more intrigued with that last part. “What do you mean by 'not the only pawn,' Richter?” He didn't answer fast enough. Two more shots scrape past his head. 

Richter didn't even flinch. Confident, he had this egotistical prick exactly where he wanted. “You say, there's a $50,000 contract's on my head, correct?” 

“Yes,” Scorpio confirms with some easiness. “What of it?” 

“You consider me gullible, don't you?”. 

“Not really,” he lies, and it shows. 

“You're a damn li,” Scorpio snaps into attention, startled by the statement's ferocity. “I am. Me, Mason Von Richter, I served him over 20 years. Faithfully. Without issue. And the first time one arises, what does he do? Puts a $50,000 bounty over my head. That's gratitude for you. But, you know what Mr. High-And-Mighty?” 

“No, what?” 

“I wouldn't celebrate too soon. There's a contract on your head, too”. 

“What?” 

“Betrayal's a bitch, isn't she?” Richter laughs so hard. He drops, rolling back and forth, pointing and laughing all the harder. 

Two more 5.56-mm rounds spark off the concrete roundabout him. Scorpio grows angrier by the minute bellowing, “Shut up, or I won't miss next time”. 

Richter leaps onto his feet. Beat back. Chest out. And arms spread abroad. “Go ahead, then you'll never learn who issued it, and what outfit holds said contract, Jacky Boy”. 

“The name's Scorpio,” she shoots back, only to be met by cold, indifferent eyes. Eyes, which dared the madman to kill him. “Fine,” Scorpio drops his M4. “Who issued the contract?” 

“Strucker,” he abscise his boss' appellation. 

“No way”. 

“Hey,” Richter compares their service records, “I served Supreme Hydra twice longer than you. And he valued my allegiance at $50,000. How much would he value yours?” 

“Considerably more,” he asserts. “I don't just serve. I am Supreme Hydra over the Philippines”. 

“You quipped earlier. My boss viewed my posing a great threat unto his empire. Well, brother, you pose even a greater thereat. You 'stole' part of his father's empire. Hence, he views you as being worse than me. An usurper trumps a traitor in his book. Just think about it, and be honest with yourself. It's eye opening”. 

Deserves Another

“Who holds this contract?” Scorpio asks his most burning question. 

“The League of Assassins”. 

“Ra's al Ghoul,” Jacob Fury growls with fists bawled tight. 

“Why would he do this?” 

“Simple. Kill you, and your supporters will start a war among themselves, to see who'd become the next Supreme Hydra. What they don't realize? They'd be doing Strucker a favor”.

“That's insane”. 

“So insane, in fact, it's brilliant,” Richter gives him another reason to leave him alive. “Many, even among our own supporters, fear a truly global unified Hydra, like during the 40s and 50s. That was the main reason they helped the allies in dividing her into seven major factions. Strucker knows, many would do the same today. Only, he'd set up dummy factions; making it appear Hydra's still broken, when, in reality, he'd become Supreme, Supreme Hydra behind the scenes”. 

“That'd mean,” he relaxes a bit contemplating the implications, for everyone involved, “he'd haft to target WEE and Modok/Doctor Octopus' operations, too, wouldn't he?” 

“Now you're starting to catch on,” was his scathing confirmation. “Depose them, too, and he'd in time become the Grand Imperial Hydra, or some other pompous, asinine title, that best stroked his ego. Now, you know the truth. Maybe we should alert WEE? They could...” 

“No. Absolutely not,” Scorpio rejects that notion. “I have a much better idea”. 

“What's that?” 

“First, we set up a chat with your boss. Let him know you're okay. He'll cancel that kill order. And you can return home”. 

“To do what?” Richter protests sharply, “Simply serve the bastard who wanted me dead”. 

“No,” Scorpio rubs his shoulders whispering, “you can get even”. 

Richter smiles, “Nothing would please me more. How do we turn the tide in our favor?”

“Simple. We give him a reason to distrust his allies even, and them ample reason to distrust one another".


	18. Divide And Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supreme Hydra Struckers planned on dividing and enslaving humans as well as mutants. Both species needed his divine leadership. Kim turns his plans around using his very logic against him.

Reach Out And Touch Someone

Supreme Hydra Strucker sat behind his plus desk. Outward, he was the epitome of self-control. Inward, he was pensive and short-tempered. His man came up missing nearly 48 hours ago. Hydra's best was combing the globe, and still nothing. As of yet. 

His computer beeps. Screen flashing, and displaying a J-Net icon. Hydra's version of Terror.Net, the other villains seemed to favor these days. Theirs was simply more high-tech, harder to trace. He taps the icon waiting. A video pops on screen. 

“Hello, Strucker”. 

“Scorpio,” he narrows his eyes upon his Philippino rival, “what do you want?”

“Nothing,” he miles, gloating he had the upper hand. For once. “It's you in need. Not me”. 

“What're you babbling about?” 

“C'mere,” Scorpio gestures his guest. 

“Hail, Hydra,” Richter salutes his boss. 

“You're alive?” Strucker's eyes exhibit both relief and concern. 

“Yes, Sir”. 

“What are you doing in the Philippines?” 

“That mutant grabbed me”. 

“We thought as much”. 

“She simply dumped me inside an abandoned warehouse, and left. I don't know what her objective could've been, Sir”. 

“Detective Hans suspects, I was her primary target,” he relays the news. “She weaved a nice web of lies, everything from you're an FBI informant...” 

“Sir,” he paled, “I'd never...”

“Relax, your asset cleared that one up”. 

“Asset?” He questions before remembering his girlfriend. “Oh, you met Miss Drabber?” 

“I did,” Strucker nods. “She gave us the bogus file against you. The very file used in raiding our company in Trinidad. We'll talk more when you get here”. 

“I'll book your boy on the earlier flight tomorrow. He should reach New York in approximately 20-21 hours, straight flight”. 

Planting The Seed

Agent Beta ambles into his boss' ornate office. Show fear and he'd get fed unto the sharks. Make too much noise and he'd get worse. His stride just heavy enough to alert Gemini about his presence, but not loud enough to distract him. 

Gemini sat. Chair swiveled. Back towards the door. Eyes glued on the monitors. He'd monitored all communiques amongst their sister factions, and especially the organization never to be named in his presence.

Gemini was convinced, the factions were mobilizing. For what? He was sure. Only speculations. His generals and lieutenants felt he was overreacting, not that they'd ever say that unto his face. Gemini pauses the video feed, swivels his chair back around, and smiles. Mechanical hand stroking PePe's fur coat. “Why are you disturbing me Agent Beta?” 

Agent Beta shrinks back under his damning peer. Palms sweaty and nervous. “A package arrived for you, My Lord?” He extends the box, bowing. 

“Agent Beta...!” He shouts. 

Agent Beta shrinks farther back hiding amidst the shadows of the dimly lit office. Saying nothing and keeping his head down. Praying his boss didn't punish him over this. 

Gemini relished his subjects fearing him so greatly. It meant, examples weren't necessary anymore. They realized his word was law. “Tell me this,” his voice calmed but still strained, “this lair's less than two   
months old. So, tell me, my friend, who'd send me anything....here!?” He yells that last part. 

“Agent Epsilon was about running his errands, as you demanded, Sir,” he points out why any of his agents would dare leave this compound. “A fiery redhead in form-fitting attire approached him and shoved this box into his gut. She said, and I quote, 'make sure your boss gets this or else'”. 

“What's inside?” 

“I don't know, Sir,” he assures his privacy. “EOD x-rayed the box, even sampled the wrapping paper and tape, but didn't detect any explosive residues, biologicals, or such. It came up clean”. 

“You did well, Agent Beta”. He relaxes a bit. “Bring me the package”. Agent Beta ambles over and carefully set down the package, and backs away, very slowly. Gemini picks the package up, tears off the wrapping paper, even ripping open its flaps. He discovers a DVD with a sticky note. 

The note simply read, “For your own peace of mind, watch me”. Gemini peels off and discards the note inside his wastebasket. He inserts the DVD into his laptop. The only computer not directly hooked into this compound's server network, just in case there's malicious software on the DVD. 

An edited video pops up on screen. He recognized Richter and Scorpio. His rival/allies. Scorpio draws his M4 threatening Richter, taunting how his boss put a $50,000 bounty over his head. Richter became so upset. He mentions similar contracts over his head. Gemini cups his throat, especially with the League of Shadows mentioned. He feared few people. Ra's al Ghoul topped his list. 

Gemini momentarily sympathized with Scorpio, til hearing. Richter suggested they warn WEE. His impetuous rival, Scorpio, decided against such action. He'd let whoever murder him. Maybe then he could annex WEE and its territories. The last part mentioned Project Metallacore. His blood runs cold in a fraction of a second. 

“Agent Beta, mobilize six 10-man strike teams”. 

“What's our destination?” 

“Senor's Caribbean Island”. 

“Orders, Sir?” 

“We're gonna help Senor secure his research,” Gemini grins menacingly, while stroking PePe's fury coat more vigorously. 

The Fruition of Suggestive Reasoning

Scorpio paced his throne room. Full length. Back and forth. Hid mind bombarded by 'what ifs'. His source couldn't back up the allegations against his boss. He was essentially worrying over hearsay, legally speaking. Even so, he couldn't simply discard what he'd said. Neither could he deny. Strucker would double-cross them all in a heartbeat, if it'd serve his purposes. Hell, he would. They all would. 

That's the only reason he didn't retaliate against his mercurial ally. Well, that, and doing so would hurt them all. Igniting a gangland war. Among their factions. The bloodshed wouldn't stop there. War honors no borders, neither spares young nor old. Who knows how many could die, before this dispute gets resolved? Maybe himself included? And over what? Ambition and greed. 

Topping his list of ambition and greed, what if Project Metallacore somehow factored into what Richter alleged. A contract loomed over his head. One issued by his alleged ally. Strucker kept his finger on Ra's al Ghoul trigger. That was a sobering though, indeed. 

“My Lord,” a servant kneels in his presence, “a message from Ragar”. 

“Our operative embedded inside WEE”. 

“The same, Sir”. 

“He hasn't reported in several months,” Scorpio rubs his chin suspiciously. “I figured, he'd either switched sides or been captured”. 

“As did I, Sir”. 

“Fine,” he cedes. “Let's hear this message”. 

Emile the servant inserts the thumb drive into its USB slot. An edited video pops up on screen. His eyes emanate feral bitterness. Scorpio recognizes Gemini and a traitor, Agent Beta, who used to spy for his faction. His rage knew no bounds hearing....Gemini order his lieutenant to secure Senor's Caribbean Island. That was all the proof he needed. Scorpio leaps off his throne. 

“My Lord, what's wrong?” Emile asks, quickly sorry he did. 

“You idiot,” Scorpio backhands him over such stupidity. “We've been played. Strucker esteems us as mere squatters. Modok and Doctor Octopus views us as gnats. A speck, no better than to be killed and brushed aside. Now WEE sides with the very ones biding our mutual destruction. And Richter,” his voice deeply embittered. “He played us worst of all”. 

“How, My Lord?” 

“Don't you get it? He was never kidnapped,” he swipes his desktop scattering paperwork and many electronic components. “It was all staged. For my benefit. He played me. Start to finish. I should've killed him, and simply collected the $50,000. I'm gone”. 

“Agent Beta, wait til Gemini people storm the shores, then bomb Senor's Caribbean Island”. 

“I'll be my honor, Sir”. 

“Where will you be, Sir?” 

“Handling a more personal matter,” Scorpio evinces on his way out. “No one plays Scorpio. No one!” And he was gone. 

Behind The Scenes

Kim turns off their overhead monitor, and glances back with a smile. 

Wolverine was a 'hit fast, hit hard' type of warrior. He despised, but did use subterfuge. At times, and, even then, only when absolutely necessary. 

Kim notices how he was watching her, and grew uncomfortable, asking, “What?” 

“For millennias, women have been viewed as enchantresses, who seduce men with their wiles and lead them unto their doom. I must say, whoever made that observation, he must've known you in a previous life, Chiyoko”. 

“Uh...” She giggles, glancing sideways at him, “Thanks, I think. Father”. 

“Look,” he clarifies, “I only meant you make conning someone look like a fine work of art”. 

“Ah, c'mon,” she rolls her eyes shaking her head. 

“Where?” 

“Senor's Island”. 

“Why?” 

“Stop one massacre, but set up another”. 

“Oh great,” he gripes. “When do we see some action”. He deploys his claws. 

“Very soon,” she deploys hers striking them together. Loudly. “I simply must move a few more chess pieces around the board”. 

“Okay,” he retracts his claws, as does she. 

Laying The Proper Bait

Kim and Wolverine materialize amidst the Senior's living room. Claws deployed. Eyes boiling with feral rage. Ready for action. The Senors, Shego, and Drakken stay planted firmly around the TV. 

Senor Senor Sr. pales, recalling his hellacious waking nightmare, rasping, “Acon...”

“Say my name aloud, Old Man,” she snaps her wrist deploying razor sharp claws, “and I promise I'll kill everyone here”. She hurls three ninja stars pressing her point. One scrapes Junior's forehead drawing blood. A second barely misses and the baby cuddled in her arms. 

“Just who the hell are you?” Shego jumps up with hands lit. Plasma Green. 

“String Bean, you'd best stay out of this, if you know what's good for you and your lover”. 

“Lover!” She screams with bitterness. Drakken panics, scrambling behind the sofa. 

Kim ignites her own palms. 

Shego steps back taking her threat more serious. She grins maliciously hurling plasma balls towards this venerable enemy. 

Kim yawns, holding up one hand. 

Her plasma balls dissolve mid-air. 

Kim's sneer, only edges her opponent on. 

How dare anyone mock her? She powers up harder. Head to toe. She screams every expletive in the book charging harder and faster than before. Shego runs headfirst into an invisible barrier, which wraps itself quick around her body, binding her hands by her sides, restricting her movements. She could so little more than squirm and moan. 

“Listen up, String Bean, I'm both meaner, smarter, and more powerful than you. There's a major difference in our flames. Care to guess?” 

Shego gasps to breathe. Each breath more rugged that the last. “What?” She pants. 

“Your plasma requires oxygen. Mine doesn't,” she sneers over her opponent's helplessness. “Care to listen now?” 

Oxygen depleted under the dome, and ready to pass out, Shego nods her compliance. 

“Good,” Kim drops her shield. 

Shego drops on her hands and feet. Gasping to replenish her weary lungs. 

“Father, watch them,” gesturing towards Shego and Drakken. 

Dissension Knows No Honor

“Old Man, gather you family we're leaving. Now!” 

“Why should we go anywhere with your likes,” Bonnie contends, looking down on her. 

“The choice is yours, Mrs. Senor,” Aconasema growls, deploying and striking her blades together. The resulting sparks made an eerie glee in her eyes. 

Bonnie backs away, recognizing her high school rival's ferocity behind that threat. 

“Stay here,” she states, having her undivided attention, “and watch your baby be butchered, or come with us and he'll live”. 

“Wait, wait,” Senor holds up a hands silencing the brunette, “who's gonna harm my grandson?”

“Scorpio, Gemini, and Struckers”. 

“Impossible,” he dismisses, before realizing what he'd said, “I still have two days”. 

“Had, as in past tense, Old Man,” she clarifies his position. 

“What are you talking about? He promised me...” 

“Haven't you ever heard, even in your own Code Book on Villainy, 'Dissension knows no honor'; similar to, 'There's no honor among thieves. And that goes double for Ra's al Ghoul”. 

“You haft to be kidding me,” Shego straightway recognizes his name. “League of Shadows? That Ra's al Ghoul”. 

“This idiot made a secret deal with the devil himself. You think he'd know better? No. He becomes more gullible believing this Ananias' lying tongue”. 

“Wise up, Old Man,” Shego derides him. “Ra's al Ghoul kills men, women, and children, even expectant mothers”. She shoots a damning look specifically towards Bonnie. 

“Junior, I think we should listen,” she sides with Shego. Not this mutant. 

“As do I, Father,” Junior vociferates his wife's opinion. 

Senor Senor hesitates, weighing everything at stake. 

“Senor, don't believe whatever he told you. The League of Shadows only exists to balance wrong and right. Ra's views himself an avenger of evil. He'd say or do anything to gain your trust. Now, that I know he's involved. I'll bet, he holds contracts over Doc and me. Doesn't he?” 

Senor exhales sharply, exasperated. He'd been an entrepreneur and villain long enough to know, when he was beaten, and the decision ripped out of his hands.

“Yes, he does,” Senor answers the green thief. 

“What do you want us to do?” He inquires from Dragon Phoenix. 

“Only sleep”. She'd no sooner uttered these very words. A veil of slumber slipped over their minds. Senor Senor, Junior, Bonnie, Shego, and Drakken were asleep within 30-seconds. 

“Whoa,” Wolverine marveled how quickly she subdued them. All. At once. And the next thing he noted, they were back at her base. Wherever that might be. She still hadn't told him, or anyone else, for that matter. 

Tension To Spare

Word spread like wildfire about their arrival. The Possibles, Stoppables, even Wade and his family mob them left and right.

Wolverine grows impatient, not used to all this attention. He ejects his claws growling ferinely. 

The pack scatters, clearing him a path, only to meet by Professor X, his fellow X-Men, and younger student body of Xavier Institute. “Professor”. 

“Wolverine,” Professor X greets informally. 

“Let me tell you, Chuck,” Wolverine smiles. “That girl can con a starving wolf's out of its last meal”. 

“Thank you, Father,” Kim smiles, wrapping him in a hug and slapping his back. 

Professor X smiles behind an arched brow, pondering the irony. A week ago, neither could be in the same room together without tying up; and now, they're familial. Something changed during their joint mission. And he needed to know what, “What happened while you two were gone?” 

Wolverine cuts his eyes. 

“Ah, go ahead, he's harmless,” she laughs jovially. 

“My little girl's orchestrating a war among Hydra's factions and allies. We haven't fought or harmed anyone, since leaving. In fact, we saved these people,” gesturing towards the Senors, Drakken, and his mercenary, Shego, “from assassination by the League of Shadows”. 

“Logan, you can't seriously be thinking about taking on the League of Shadows,” Professor X was aghast, and especially worried over his prolonged silence. 

“Of course not,” Kim responds for him. 

“What d o you mean, Young Lady?” Anne Possible inquires, but couldn't imagine why. 

“It's past time Uncle Ra's and I...” 

“Uncle!” Everyone rasps. 

“I was raised Yakuza. How else could I defeat the Yashida clan's best, even so young. I was Ra's best female pupil, surpassing many of his male charges. How else could Mariko so easily coerce me into stasis? And besides, my meeting with Uncle Ra's is pat of my plan”. 

“What plan?” Wolverine probes her intentions. 

“Without giving too much away,” she smiles with feral mirth. “Let's just say, my meeting him is the spark, which lights the fuse to bring down Hydra's whole empire. All branches. In one day”. 

“Huh?” Ron and Hanna echo with enough tension to spare. 

Seeing All Red

It was quiet. Too quiet. She'd gotten so engross in this. She'd almost forgotten. “Where are the twins?” Anne suddenly worries what trouble her sons could've gotten into, wherever they were. 

“Luna, where are the twin terrors?” 

“Level 18, Sector 7...” 

“Near the exit?” 

“Affirmative, Dragon Phoenix”. 

“Kill...” 

“No. Don't,” Ron beseeches. Kim knew, he'd preserve her cover. 

“Fine,” Aconasema yields. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Possible, you can't control them. That leaves me no choice”. 

“Luna, stick the twins, the Senors, and blue boy, and the Jolly Green Giant's wife into stasis”.

“Why?” Anne and James Possible protests. 

“You're on Mars”. 

“Mars!” Everyone joins in chorus again. 

Luna unveil but don't open the view port. A small window opens in the side wall. Everyone crowds around the tiny port. Everything was red as far as the eye could see. 

“How's this possible?” Hanna shifts her eyes between the port and Aconasema. 

Aconasema simply shrugs, prepared to simply walk away. 

“Don't weave,” the feisty little girl stomps her feet. “I wanna knows”. Her parents and brother tense up, unsure how this mutant would react. 

“Very well, Little One. You're inside my Martian base. Anyone pops a hatch, they and anyone near them get sucked onto the cold, desolate Martian planet, along with depleting that section's air supply, unless pressurized again within 3-minutes. It's that simple,” she reaches out pinching her nose. 

“Father, wait 30-minutes, then set the next stage of our plan into action”. 

“I will. Promise”. 

“Of course,” she sneers, imagining their reaction. “Dr. Director and Fury should be meeting, about now, aboard S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier”. 

She winks at him vanishing before their eyes. 

Walking Into The Devil's Den

Kim materializes amidst Ra's al Ghoul's private living quarters. Private guards descend upon the gold toned intruder from all angles. Ninja stars, spikes, poison darts; all projectiles simply pass through, like an evil spirit. And yet, she had both form and substance. Their swords and other weapons shatter like glass, even with the slightest strikes. Laser didn't slow and bullets simply dissolved in thin air. All the while, she maintained her steady approach cachinnating over their futile efforts. 

Ra's meets her sneer. He raises his hand. All warriors falls back clearing a path. He rises even so slowly. For dramatics, she guessed. Not showing any sign of intimidation. He draws his katana eyeing her harder, while descending his throne, and boasting, “I think, pretender, you'll learn. This one,” he hoists his blade high, “isn't as brittle as theirs”. 

“Yea, yea, it's an enchanted blade,” she shatters his veneer of invincibility. “Forged in Vantu's holy temple, consecrated in the waters of separation, and endowed with his holy essence and consecrated by being bathed in Vantu's own blood during the autumn equinox many centuries ago”. 

“How?” He stops cold, two short of the bottom. “How can you possibly know this?” 

“Simple, Mortal...” 

“Mortal?” 

“Haven't your figured it yet? I figured, you, of all these sapiens, would've at least guessed my true identity by now. Global Justice, S.H.I.E.L.D., nearly every intelligence agency thinks I'm Jean Grey and that sap Wolverine's daughter. Truth is, I'm neither human, mutant, or alien. I'm a goddess”. 

Ra's didn't believe a word. He grits his teeth sharply. “How dare you mock me?” He cries with feral rage. His men scatter in every direction. Ra's strikes with much ferocity. His blade meets hers only to shatter into a million pieces. Ancient energies purl all around them. His enchanted blade dissolves into empty space. 

“Aconasema's the name,” she displays her own enchanted blade, which absorbs his mystical energies. Every last ounce. 

His eyes palpate in pure terror. Mind scarcely processing what his eyes see. Ra's prostrates himself bewailing, “Mars-soule's Blood Reaper Blade”. 

“So, you've heard of my father's sword”. 

“Raja carried it for his master, Mars...” 

“My father”. 

“Mars gave it unto his beloved”. 

“My mother”. 

“I'm sorry I doubted your word, My Lady,” Ra's apologizes. 

“It's okay,” she forgives him, stipulating. “I came here for one reason”. 

“Only name it, My Lady”. 

“I know you have contracts on Scorpio, Gemini, the Senors”. 

“Yes”. 

“Cancel them, Ra's”. 

“Why, Your Greatness?”

“Do it, or I cancel you. I have other uses for them. That's all you need know”. 

“It shall be done, Aconasema,” he touches his forehead unto the pavement, and when he looked back up, she was gone. 

Back Home

“Give'm hell, Girl,” Wolverine hoists his fists high in the air. 

“Logan!” 

“Sorry, Professor”. 

“What're you so happy about?” Hanna points towards the monitor. “She just denied being yours”. 

“Of course she did,” he doesn't deny her action, only her motives. “She did so, canceling the contract over us. So, later, we can return unto our regular lives”. 

“Brother, what do you think?” 

“I agree, Sis,” Ron emulates her concern. This wasn't the Kim he knew and loved. “She shouldn't have so easily rattled a master of assassins, let alone have him worshiping her. That was sick and wrong on all levels”. 

“Say what you want,” Wolverine defends her actions, “she's trying to stop the killings”. 

“Stop them?” James dispute that assessment. 

Anne clarifies her husband's point counter arguing, “Didn't she say earlier, she intended on starting a civil war amidst Hydra's factions and allies?” 

“Only temporarily,” he denigrates the seriousness of her actions. 

“Logan, there's no such thing as a temporary war,” Professor X denounces this course of action. “Hard feelings linger, and will inevitably lead unto more conflicts, maybe even more wars, later”. 

“I agree, Professor,” Wolverine shocks him. Completely. 

“You do?” He snaps his head in surprise. “Then, why're you defending her actions?” 

“Look, Chuck, I mean no disrespect,” he sighs, keeping his temper in check. “These people can judge us all they want. We don't give a damn, her or me. You should know better, My Friend. She didn't have your refined upbringing. Her parents weren't there. I didn't know she existed. Her mother was dead. She wasn't taught right and wrong, civility, or when killing is or isn't necessary. 

You heard her earlier. Ra's al Ghoul trained her in espionage and assassination. I don't know if she's even aware yet. Those men didn't randomly attack her and her adoptive family. She'd already received considerable physical training. Being violently raped and watching her family die, and knowing there wasn't anything she could do to help them, that was supposed to be part of her mental conditioning. Just so they could shatter her psyche and rebuild the ultimate warrior. 

So, yes. I agree, her actions are deplorable. It wasn't that long ago. I was in her same position. Very unscrupulous people exploited me into doing their vile deeds, all the while, sitting in judgment over me. They condemned every action spouting things like common sense and human decency. What I didn't realize? That, too, was part of my own conditioning, like some rat in their private maze. 

I became so vengeful. I'd rather kill than tolerate them any longer. That was when the military lost control over Weapon X. You see, I know how she feels. I, too, am an outcast. Feared by humans and despised by my fellow mutants. I became a loner, not trusting anyone. Bach then, I'd rather live among animals than people. In my mind, they were more civil towards their own kind. And then, something happened I never thought possible”. 

“What was that, Old Friend?” 

“I met you, Professor,” he pats his mentor's shoulder. “You still embraced high ideals. But unlike most high-minded bigots, you didn't sit in judgment over me. Show her the same consideration. That's all I ask. From all of you. It's nigh to impossible to reclaim, once you lose touch with your humanity; and doubly so, if you never knew it exited, as is her case. So, forgive her if she doesn't handle this situation like you think she should. 

She's saving lives the best she way she knows. That's what should really matter. And besides, it's the first step to regaining her humanity. Something she desperately needs with as powerful as she is. I warn you all, here and now, and you'd best heed me. Reject this girl. Do unto her what was done unto me. You fear Weapon X or Jean Gray. You'd best fear her a thousand times greater. Break her spirit when she's trying to do good. And you might create another Darkside, Dormammu, or worse,” Wolverine says his peace, and storms out, before he further alienates his mentor and best friend. 

Leaving the others to ponder his words, and contemplating the ramifications of her becoming some villain greater than Darkside or Dormammu.


	19. Unquenchable Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richter returns home, confident, he'd get his revenge over his boss' betrayal. Only, Scorpio had other plans. First, he murders his secret partner's girlfriend, and then guns him down in his boss' office. He leaves little doubt who's responsible posing for the cameras atop FBI HQ in New York. 
> 
> A feud had long existed between Global Justice and SHIELD. No one was sure how or when it started, or why. Every agent knew, it was an unwritten code. Never mention the opposite organization's name, if you wanted to keep your job long. Recent event forces both directors to resolve their past grievances. 
> 
> Both knew she was behind recent event. Neither could decipher her game plan, alone. Dr. Director and Will Du met Director Fury and his deputy director aboard SHIELD's helicarrier inside the situation black room. There, Wolverine beams inside under invisibility mode and delivers their latest message, calling them to arms. War's coming. Get ready. 
> 
> She delivers each faction proof, how each was double-crossing the other.

Loud and Clear

“Richter, get in here,” Strucker summons his right hand man. 

It'd only been 36-hours since his release, or so his boss thought. He stayed terrified he'd find out his complicity, somehow, someway. Mason Von Richter ambles into his boss' office without a care, closes the door behind himself, and salutes his boss, “Hail, Supreme Hydra”. 

“Sit, My Friend,” Struckers gestures towards a chair. “I have some distressing news”. 

His mind kicked into overdrive replaying worst to best case scenarios, even devising potentially believable covers, if asked. Only, his boss never asks the first question. He simply points the remote turning up the television volume. 

A curvaceous African-American woman in halter, heels, and plaid skirt appears on screen. Her eyes deep-set and voice marred with grief, “At exactly 2:15 p.m., this afternoon, a mere 30-minutes ago, this young woman plunged unto her death atop the FBI's New York Office. The victim's name was Emily Drabber, personal secretary...” 

“Oh, no,” Richter drops his head. 

“So,” Strucker mutes the television, “there was more between you two, than mere handler and asset”. 

“Yes, Sir,” he sniffles. “You have no reason to believe me. I never told her anything about Hydra. She did, though, share INTEL with me about ongoing FBI investigation involving us”. 

“Oh, I believe you,” Strucker chuckles. “That little filly had spirit. Hell, she stood up to me”. 

“She did?” 

“For you, My Friend,” Strucker extols her loyalty. “Told me, kill her if I must, she'd have her say, on your behalf, and she did”. He turns the volume back up. 

“A security camera caught this grainy image near Stairwell-D, leading onto the roof, less than two minutes, before Miss Drabber soared off the roof plunging unto her death below. Digital enhancement shows   
her perpetrator being this yet unidentified man”. The image clears up before their eyes. 

Von Richter immediately recognizes his partner in this conspiracy. He jumps up and turns around. Arms raised high. Fists bawled up tight. Tears streaming down both cheeks. “Scorpio,” his name barely clears his lips. A .50 BMG round shatters his 45th story window, boring a hole through Richter's heart, spraying blood over crepitating television and back wall. 

Leaving little doubt who was responsible. He'd waited til he'd heard about his girlfriend's death, and then killed him as well. Who knows? Maybe for revenge, or something as petty as territory. .50 BMGs kept coming, drilling holes in his desk and walls roundabout. Strucker crawls through the carnage pressing a button under his desk. 

Reverse polarized titanium blast proof shielding drops over his missing office windows He knew, this countermeasure wouldn't last long under this firepower. Strucker dashes towards yanking open his office door. A .50 BMG round pierces the armor 30-seconds later barely missing vital anatomy, and lodging in the doorjamb. He dives over his secretary's desk taking cover beside her. 

The shots cease, and shooter disappears amidst a bustling city, having delivered his/her intended message, loud and clear. 

Omega-Red

Dr. Director and Will Du sat across Nick Fury and Black Widow inside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Level-10 Omega Situation Room. 

“Dr. Ito, what'd you discover after examining this syntho-Shego, as Agent Knight called it?” Fury opens the floor. 

Dr. Nobu Ito became S.H.I.E.L.D.'s chief cyberneticist after Dr. Warshire's murder. He clears his throat nervously, elucidating, “Dr. Warshire, my predecessor, noted it probably built by Dr. Drakken. I wasn't familiar with his work. Global Justice's Psy-base, a special database where specialists around the world debate these madmen's actions”. 

“We already know what it is, Doctor,” Fury hurries things along, quickly growing impatient. “Just tell me, if you can, who built the damn thing?” 

“Built would be the wrong term here, Director. Drakken clearly built this synthodrone. However, it was considerably upgraded by Modok”. 

“Are you sure?” Dr. Director demands the scientist's confirmation. 

“Positive,” he assures her. “Oh, he tried to duplicate this Drakken's work, but failed miserably. “His detail to plan came through reorienting the design ever so slightly, but still noticeable. Drakken's initial design's more slipshod and chaotic. I'm surprised he invented something so impressive”. 

“You have no idea. He's a blue skinned nut...” 

“Will, that's enough”. 

“Sorry, Director,” he drops his assessment. 

“A history there?” 

“Like the commander elaborated, he's always ranting and raving about one thing or another. His bodyguard/partner, Shego, was Agent Possible's nemesis”. 

“Shego?” Fury crinkles his mouth. “I heard about her. Plasma, right?” 

“Super strength, speed, and agility, too,” Du shares that last part. 

“Agent Possible was the only person I ever met, who fought that woman to a standstill. Shego's an Omega-class felon, classified as a Beta threat, because she's indolent and contend to follow her idiot boss' every whim. Her true joy is life is fighting Agent Possible”. 

“Anything else, Doctor?” 

“Yes, Director, there is,” Dr. Ito's confidence wavers. Some. He avoided direct eye contact. That worried Fury and Dr. Director. “Why? I can't imagine. Modok conscripted Myles Daley's help...”

“VP of HenchCo? That Myles Daley?” Will Du blurts in complete shock. 

“The same”. 

“And how'd you link him unto these stolen synthodrones?” 

“HenchCo's secret parts inventory”. 

Dr. Ito cringes over all his boss yelling at once, “What!?” 

“Just how'd you obtain their secret inventory?” Dr. Director slams down both hands demanding a straight answer. “Global Justice has tried but failed numerous times to obtain that list”. 

“Dragon Phoenix gave the list unto Agent Knight. And she passed it along unto me, Ma'am,” he avoids her piercing stare. 

“This mutant's starting to chap me the wrong way,” Dr. Direct slams her fist against the table. 

“Me, too,” Fury shares her frustration. “You can't imagine how much trouble she stirred up clearing me with my oversight committee”. 

“The hell I can't,” Dr. Director scoffs. “She disproved their charges against me, but ruffled quite a few feathers in the process. My bosses can't touch her...” 

“Now they're setting their sights on you, seeking your head on a pike, right?” Fury japes. 

“More literal, than figurative, Director Fury”. 

Fury nods with a scoffing sigh. His superiors wanted the same. 

Hell's Fury

“Director Fury,” the helicarrier's AI interrupts this briefing, “you have an Directorate 5 emergency call on Situation Room Line #3”. 

“Roxy, what's the problem?” 

“Switch on the situation room's TV and tune into Channel 13”. 

He does as instructed. A middle-aged oriental woman wearing a gold sequined short-sleeve mini-dress appears on screen reporting, “Six hours ago, FBI Field Director Matthew Lorenzo's secretary, Emily Drabber, fell from the FBI's New York building. Some speculated...” 

“You called me....for this,” Fury shrubs his hands. 

“Not that, Director,” she assures him. “Just keep watching”. 

“....An FBI source leaked this photo...” 

“Bloody hell, is this some kind of joke?” Fury yells, recognizing his baby brother. 

“No joke, Sir. Just keep watching”. 

Fury growls under his breath. He felt like a dog led about by his leash. 

“...Apparently, this man was caught on surveillance near Stairwell-D, leading onto the roof, just moments before Miss Drabber plummeted unto her death. An hour later, traffic cams caught him near yet another murder scene, where he gunned down Mason Von Richter, the bodyguard of Ryedahl Media, Inc. CEO, Heratio Schmitz. Inside his boss' office”. 

“Roxy, get three XC-7 teams over there now”. 

“XC-7, Sir? Are you sure, Director?” 

“Positive,” he leaves no doubt. “That mutant's behind this. She may not have pulled the trigger. You can bet she's pulling the strings behind the scenes”. 

“We'll lock down the scene, Sir, and assume control over this investigation”. 

“Maybe Sturcker's still there?” 

“If we're lucky”. 

“I did say, maybe, Roxy,” Fury laughs, mutes the telecast and signs off. 

Specter Soft

A file folder apiece plops down out thin air lying before their chairs, “Here you both go”. 

Caught off guard, Fury and Black Widow jump up drawing their P30s whirling this way and that. Hearing a disembodied voice, but seeing no one. At least not physically. 

Dr. Director draws her .45 and Will Du, his .357. 

All their effort greeted with condescending laughter, “Foolish mortals, you still think you can match my power. I, Aconasema, will prove her greatness. Just open your folders, and you'll all see who's really behind this insanity”. 

“From your brother, Dr. Director”. 

“To yours, too, Fury,” she singles them out. 

“Study the materials well, lackeys,” speaking unto Will Du and Black Widow. 

“Why?” Black Widow and Will Du snap indignantly, insulted over being called lackeys. 

“Your bosses will need your help, very soon. War's coming,” her patronizing laughter bruises their egos. 

Dr. Director and Fury suppress their own bitterness better spouting, “What war?” 

“She can't be serious? Can she, Director Fury?” 

“Black Widow, I don't put anything past this mutant,” Dr. Directors nods in agreement. 

“Pathetic mortals,” Aconasema demeans them. “Will you ever learn? I'm not human, mutant, or alien. I'm Aconasema”. 

“Where are you?” Dr. Director demands. 

“Show yourself. Now,” Fury issues his own. 

“It's not time. Yet. You'll see me. Soon enough. First, you should really investigate Hydra's latest front, Genormic-8 Research, in Frankfurt, Germany. Beware who you trust, while you probe this company. Hydra has moles high in the Federal Defense Force (Military Police), MFE, GSG-9, even the BPOL (Federal Police). One wrong move and they'll have that place clean before your people get there. Remember. You'll see me. Soon enough,” her voice fades into a subtle whisper. “Bye”. 

Wolverine wearing a stealth suit kills the recording, right before Luna auto-beamed him off the helicarrier and back onto their Martian base. 

“Do you...?” 

“Believe me, Commander, she'll do that plus more,” Dr. Director silences his questions. 

She jerks open her file dumping its content: photos of Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker (Supreme Hydra over the Americas and surrounding territories), his lackey: Von Richter and Emily Emily Drabber (alone and together, kissing publicly), Doctor Octopus and Modok (Supreme Hydra over Europe), Scorpio (Supreme Hydra over the Philippines), and their affiliates (Gemini and Ra's al Ghoul's pictures...

along with Saran Maddox (along with pictures, names, and dates of recruitment of the double agents comprising Hydra's cell within S.H.I.E.L.D. 

along with Loretta Croft (along with pictures, names, and dates of recruitment of the double agents comprising Hydra's cells within Global Justice”. 

Fury's file contained the same. He glances up, exasperated. Many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gave their lives infiltrating this organization. And none came up with anything close unto this. “Where'd she even acquire half this stuff?” 

“Here, this might quench your curiosity,” Dr. Director produces a typeset sticky note. 

“In case you're curious, you can thank Jack Hench, Saran Maddox, the Hydra Four, Senor Senor, and others, who're my prisoners. Where? You'd never believe me, if I told you. So, I won't even bother. All I will say is, happy hunting, Brave Ones”. 

“Oh, great,” Fury gripes aloud, “she thinks this is some kind of African jungle safari”. 

“What'd you really expect? She's a goddess, raised by assassins”. 

Rebuking didn't work. She switches gears. “Commander, really,” Dr. Director shames him openly. 

“Well, it's true,” he quips, shocking everyone there. 

Unquenchable Flames

Modok and Doctor Octopus worked tirelessly at their individual stations. Every Hydra faction had sustained extensive losses, both in people and assets, except theirs. And they simply wanted to understand, why? Was it random luck or shrewd coercion. They just didn't know. For certain. One way or another. That's what bugged them, more than anything else. 

Stucker functioned as management. Scorpio supplied expendable workers/agents, Doctor Octopus and he provided cutting edge technology keeping Hydra decades ahead of global law enforcement. Gemini served as their first line of defense, and Ra's al Ghoul, as their ace in the hole. 

It seemed logical, an 88.5% chance, if someone wanted to crush Hydra, they'd strike their branch first over their sisters and allies. And yet, whoever's behind these attacks did the exact opposite. 

A computer beeping disrupts Modok's train of thought. You have mail flashes across his screen.

“What is it now?” Doctor Octopus contemns so many interruptions. Today alone. He'd heard more than enough bad news...to late a lifetime. He only hoped their luck holds. 

“An e-mail,” Modok deadpans. 

“From who?” 

“Richter”. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” Modok shares his partner's concerns. “Security doesn't detect any viruses and malicious malware”. 

“Go ahead and open the damn thing,” Doctor Octopus edges him. “You know you want to. Might as well get it over with”. 

Modok double clicks opening the email. 

“What does it say?” 

“Nothing”. 

“Maybe it's in code,” Doctor Octopus proposes

“How can you have code when it's blank,” Modok mocks his partner's code theory. 

“What idiot sends a blank email?” Doctor Octopus counter argues, sticking with his original theory. 

“They don't”.

“What'd you find?” 

“An audio file”. 

“Well, open the damn thing,” Doctor Octopus slides his chair behind his partner. 

Modok clicks the .WAV file. His audio player pops up. Strucker's voice comes through loud and clear, “Those fools have talked down unto us one time too many. It's time Modok and Doctor Octopus learn who's Hydra's true Grand Imperator really is. Contact those idiots and request the Hydra Four be activated and inserted aboard the helicarrier”. The audio ends there. 

“Fools!” Modok grits his teeth 

“Idiots!” Doctor Octopus shouts, boiling mad. 

“We have more brains in our little finger...” 

“...than that pompous idiot in his whole body,” Modok shares his partner outrage over being insulted behind their backs. 

“And worse, they intended on setting us to take the blame over them attacking the helicarrier,” Doctor Octopus reasons aloud. 

“Yea,” Modok follows suit, “I'll bet this whole scenario was a setup: from the attack on Possible's home and hospital room, that mutant targeting us, even his errand boy's kidnapping and murder. Just so the authorities would do his dirty work by taking us down. Then, he could seize control over our territories, even by war, in necessary”. 

“It seems, he must think so,” Doctor Octopus agrees. “He's sure trying to instigate one”. 

Their suspicions only confirmed more, when the audio file auto-resumes. Dragon Phoenix's voice comes through their lines, “I see....What about Modok and Doctor Octopus? Will they get part of Scorpio's territory?” 

Richter laughs aloud. “Don't make me laugh. We'll take theirs and his. Supreme Hydra Strucker will be supreme over all. Scorpio and Gemini aren't even fit to be inside Hydra. Both men act like squabbling children, driven by petty revenge...against a sibling,” he condescends. “Such pettiness will only serve to unnecessarily expose Hydra's future operations, before we intend. 

Modok and Doctor Octopus, on the other hand, are almost Hydra material. Both men are smart, focused, and extremely driven. Only, they lack any sense of loyalty, even among themselves. Heaven only knows, how their partnership's lasted this long. One dispute and theirs would crumble around them. Our position is, if they can't trust one another, how can we trust, either?” 

It's been said, fury is like unquenchable flames. It only burns hotter as time goes on. Those very insults lit unquenchable flames within both men's hearts. 

Eye For An Eye

“Director Fury,” the helicarrier's AI buts in again, “you have another Directorate 5 emergency call on Situation Room Line #6”. 

Fury drops his head cursing under his breath. He knew that he knew. Aconasema was behind this emergency. “Roxy, what'd she do this time?” 

“Good guess, Nick”. 

“Guess,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Any times she's involved, it's an absolute certainty. What'd she do?” 

“This,”her fingers fly across the control board. 

The situation room's viewer comes live. A curvy brunette wearing a plaid Caribbean blue silk chiffon dress with matching heels appears on his viewer thundering, “Eight hours ago, the vacationer's paradise of Trinidad Island descended into utter chaos. Rolling thunder emanated for miles around. Heaven and earth shook with might tremors. Locals initially panicked, assuming Piparo Volcano had erupted again. Little did they suspect, the piercing rumbling and looming smoke auspicated something more devastating. 

A local seafarers captured this video,” six missiles mar the Caribbean' cerulean fleece. “Master Sergeant Samuel Belford, spokesman for the Trinidad and Tobago Special Branch, identified these blurry objects as Russian BrahMos, a short range class of supersonic cruise missiles launched from subs, certain naval air craft, even land. 

Here,” the camera zeros on one missile, “you can clearly make out their registration markings. Major General Foma Smirnov, Chief of the Russian Military Police, swore, these were among those stolen from a Saint Petersburg's military armory, two weeks ago. Whoever's responsible seems to have been targeting Billionaire Industrialist and Entrepreneur Sebastian Samuel Senor, Sr.

His family purchased a private island about 20 miles (or 32.19-km) southeast of Trinidad, about two years ago. Rumor is, the Senors were vacationing on this very island, when the missiles descended with their full fury wiping out every living thing on the tropical oasis. Trinidad and Tobago EOD and Hazmat are still combing the wreckage. Thus far, teams have uncovered nearly two hundred bodies. 

Dr. Elmyra Wallace, Trinidad and Tobago's Chief Medical Examiner, estimates it'd probably be two week or more before her department could examine and possibly identify the butchered remains, hidden amongst the carnage, to even know the family's fates”. The reporter fades into the background, as cameras sweep the island's less cannibalized areas. 

“What the hell?” Dr. Director slides forwards sitting on her seat's edge. Eyes squinted towards the television screen. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Roxanne Mariah zooms in closer clearing up the image. 

“Why would WEE attack Senor Seno?” Fury ponders aloud. 

Not really expecting an answer, but getting one anyway. From Dr. Director, no less. “I don't know. I'll bet my pension, that mutant's behind this madness, somehow, someway”. 

“I won't argue there,” Will sides with his superior. 

“It's an eye for an eye,” Black Widow seconds. 

“Roxy, get our teams down there combing that wreckage”. 

Chariots of Fire

Air alarms sound aboard the helicarrier. Light blink on and off. 

“Romana, what the hell's going on now?” He inquires of his Chief TAC Officer. 

“Sir,” his voice comes through the situation room's com, “Trinidad and Tobago's military just went on full Red Omega 4 alert”. 

“What for?” 

“Oracle just sent...” 

“What the hell's an Oracle?” 

“Not a what, Director,” Will Du corrects him. “A who”. 

“Dr. Wade Load, a 15-year old tech wizard with six Ph.D.s,” Director Director gives him a little background, “and Agent Possible's chief tech adviser on Team Possible, as they've called their team, since she started her impressive career”. 

“Fine,” he yields with a ragged sigh. “What'd he uncover?” 

“This,” Romana displays the footage Wade sent over. 

“What the...” Words fail them all. Nothing could adequately describe what they saw. 

Aconasema sat upon her fiery throne hovering amidst the carnage, as missiles rained down around her dispersing concussive blasts and fiery miasmas decimating everything in sight. Head reared back cackling more maniacally with each successive detonation”. 

“Did she kill them?” 

“I don't think so, Commander Du”. 

“Then, what's she doing?” Fury dares to ask. 

“My guess,” Black Window cocks a smile, “daring Hydra to do their worst, and using the media to deliver her auspicious ultimatum”. 

Dr. Director and Fury both glower. 

Black Widow smirks even harder. Her admiration evaporates instantly seeing a tragic marque scroll across the bottom of the television. 

Eye In The Sky

A young oriental female wearing a palm tree print sheath bodycorn dress puling solemnly, “The Trinidad and Tobago Defense Force's (TTDF) early concerns seems to have been justifiable. Local airwaves are still abuzz about Billionaire Industrialist and Entrepeneur Sebastian Samuel Senor, Sr., his son, Sebastian Samuel Senor, Jr., and his daughter-in-law, Bonnie Rockwaller Senor's speculative deaths. 

Adding unto the suspense, three chariots of fire thundered across Trinidad's auburn skies, mere moments ago. Master Sergeant Samuel Belford, spokesman for the Trinidad and Tobago Special Branch, identified them as more Russian BrahMos missiles. The projectiles moved so fast. Trinidad military didn't have time to even sound alarms. All three ordnances detonated on impact leveling San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc., a company registered in Francis Rowley's name, but long suspected owned by Billionaire Industrialist and Entrepeneur Sebastian Samuel Senor, Sr. 

Seen here,” a simulation of the impacts play out across their television screen, “the first missile hit the upper level, 2nd the middle, and last the lowest levels; essentially toppling the whole complex. CEO Francis Rowley and over 300 employees are feared dead. As you can hear,” sirens scream aloud in the background, “EMTs are still being dispatched even on the remote chance someone could've survived. 

Something more chilling has captured the media's attention, too. Here,” the reporter fades into the background. Senor's island comes into view, “You can clearly see something, which locals speculate being Santa Muerte, hovering amidst the carnage”. Cameras switch over, “She reappears again outside San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc. just moments after its destruction”. 

“What the hell's she doing?” Fury and Dr. Director slams their fists against the table. 

Will Du and Black Widow wisely say nothing. 

The reporter say enough for both, “Some speculate, this venerable saint spared the Senors enraging those targeting the family, precipitating this attack on San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc.”. 

“Hogwash,” Fury mutes the television. Dr. Director joining him in scathing laughter. 

“Not necessarily, Sir”. 

That shut them up. Immediately. Both eye her getting their point across without every asking, 'What're you driving at, Black Widow?' 

Will Du shrinks back, too intimidated by his superiors. 

Black Widow takes the challenge boldly proclaiming, “Just remember what she boasted earlier, when she delivered you those folders”. 

Dr. Director and Fury share a pensive moment dropping their heads. 

“That's right,” Black Widow presses her point. “She said she acquired her evidence from Senor Senor, among others. How could she have done this, if he were dead?” 

“She did say, they were her prisoners,” Commander Du couldn't let her outdo him. 

“Then why put on this dog-and-pony show for the media,” Fury scarfs, unable to refute them. 

Will Du opens his mouth. 

Fury didn't like his smugness snapping with pointed finger, “Don't dare reiterate what she's already said, Agent”. 

“I'd never be so petty, Sir,” Will Du's grin broadens. “I was only going to say, maybe she's the eye in the sky”. 

“Eye in the sky?” 

“It's a Global Justice phrase,” Dr. Director clarifies what he meant. “It denotes, riling a target so much, he/she acts without thinking; all the while, you're sitting behind the scene and pulling their puppet strings”. 

“And you think this mutant is pulling the strings; theirs and ours?” Fury squalls, deeply vexed by this whole ordeal. 

“Yes, I do,” Dr. Director doesn't hesitate saying what she meant. 

“As do I,” Fury agrees with them. “I mean, I already suspected her pulling theirs, but not ours”.


	20. House of Cards In the Eye Of The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim's campaign heats up. Hydra's factions start to turn and fight one another. Supreme Hydra Struckers saw his ambitions going up in smokes again. He tries a last-ditch effort to settle these dissensions, a tele-conference over J-Net, Hydra's Terror.Net equivalent. Each discusses how their partners betrayed them. Tempers flare. 
> 
> Global Justice and SHIELD, in the meantime, are busy tracing their connections and arresting each faction leader, thanks to Kim giving them J-Net's internal programming.

Diverse Reactions

Scorpio was back in Cebu City, Philippines lounging in his command center, and observing his latest handiwork. He hooked into satellite networks for the latest coverage. He felt doubly vindicated upon hearing his anonymous benefactor's latest file on his computer. 

Scorpio double clicks the .MP3 file. Dragon Phoenix and Richter's voice come over his speakers, discussing Project Metallacore, and what happens if Senor fails with Phase #1? ….

“Who's watching over this project?” 

“Scorpio”. 

“Fury's brother?” 

There was a long pause. He wasn't sure why. Scorpio discerns Richter's keen shock over this mutant knowing about his past. 

“The same,” Richter finally confirms with some wariness. 

“Why him? He's so....” She leaves the rest hanging. 

Richter falls into her trap, “Young, naive, impressionable, easy to manipulate; just like that fool, Gemini, who fancies himself a criminal mastermind”. 

Scorpio bawls his fists up tight boiling mad, but listening, “That makes no sense... Why would Strucker leave a child in charge...?” His anger boils over. Scorpio curses Strucker bitterly scattering paperwork everywhere around his control room. 

“Fact is, he didn't”. 

“But, you just said...”

“Technically, Australia isn't part of the Philippines. Scorpio isn't one for tradition. He annexed Australia, Austria, and several surrounding nations and territories into his empire. Hence, my boss appointed Scorpio as head over his research...well, for many reasons.

It relieved his insecurities by making him feel like he belonged, was truly one of us; a trusted ally. Truth is, he isn't really the head. As expected, Scorpio delegated responsibility for assigning guards at this post. We waited a while, let Scorpio inspect the facility, get comfortable with the illusion, he really controlled Hydra's massive research project, built in his empire. 

Supreme Hydra Modok hacked his computers shifting around some guards. Now, we have enough of our people in place. So, when the time comes, we can take back what's rightfully ours. Scorpio and Gemini will take the blame over creating these abominations. In the end, though, Hydra will rise again and take power, as was always meant to be. Why else would we orchestrate a war between Fury and Dr. Director, and inversely their agencies, too?”

Beyond a doubt. He knew his next target: Sten-Wauhl Enterprises, in Sydney, Australia. No one lives. All betrayed him. All. 

Flawed Gem

Gemini, like his counterpart, was inside his own control room. Madder than hell. And eyeing every agent and personnel as potential spies. He'd lost nearly 400 men. Their mission was so simple: sneak onto Senor's island and acquire Phase #1's specs; whatever Drakken had completed til this point. 

Only three people knew mission details: Gemini himself, Agent Beta, and Agent Gamma, team leader in charge of the expedition. 

Gemini knew, he didn't break his silence. 

Logic dictated, neither would Agent Gamma. Doing so could cost his life. 

That left one promising suspect. He located Scorpio's fly-cam inside his office, yesterday, or he'd done terminated Agent Beta. 

“Sir,” his chief tech alerts him, “we've accessed the fly cam's drive, and located a .RAW file”. 

“Play it for heaven's sake”. The tech double clicks the file. 

An audio file opens, a monotone voice comes over the speakers, “This conversation was between Mason Von Richter, Supreme Hydra over the Americas' right hand man, and Dragon Phoenix”. 

The modulated voice fades, replaced by Richter's, boasting with pride, “Supreme Hydra Modok hacked his computers shifting around some guards. Now, we have enough of our people in place. So, when the time comes, we can take back what's rightfully ours... Gemini will take the blame over creating these abominations. In the end,...Hydra will rise...and take power, as was always meant to be. Why else would we orchestrate a war between Fury and Dr. Director...?” 

There was a long pause. The tech assumed the recording ended. He reaches over ready to end the playback. Gemini reaches out his hand stopping the tech, hearing... 

“Who holds this contract?” He recognizes Scorpio's snug vox. 

“The League of Assassins”. 

“Ra's al Ghoul,” Jacob Fury growls with fists bawled tight. 

“Why would he do this?” 

“Simple,” Richter voices comes through loud and clear. “Killing you, and your supporters will start a war among your supporters, to see who'd become the next Supreme Hydra. What they don't realize? They'd be doing Strucker a favor”.

“That's insane”. 

“So insane, in fact, it's brilliant,” Richter boasts. “Many, even among our own supporters, fear a truly global unified Hydra, like during the 40s and 50s. That was the main reason our supporters helped the allies destroy and divide us into seven major factions. Strucker knows, many would do the same today. Only, he'd set up dummy factions; making it appear Hydra's still broken, when, in reality, he'd become Supreme, Supreme Hydra behind the scenes”. 

That'd mean,” the tension in Scorpio's voice ebbs, which indicate this assassination pose him no threat, or he'd devise another wild gambit turning his enemies' plans against them, “he'd haft to target WEE..., wouldn't he?” 

“Now you're starting to catch on,” was his scathing confirmation. “Depose them, and he'd in time become he Grand Imperial Hydra, or some other...asinine title, that best stroked his ego. Now, you know the truth. Maybe we should alert WEE? They could...” 

“No. Absolutely not,” Scorpio's voice possessed that certain edge again, “I have a much better idea”. The file ends there. 

“When was this recorded?” 

“Six hours before the incident on Senor's island,” the tech responds. 

“So, Scorpio was behind murdering my people,” Gemini contemplates his retribution. 

Fractured Relations

Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker watched the news. Bitterness and trepidation gripped his heart. His empire was crumbling around him. Territory snatched under his nose. Loyal people murdered; others coerced into rebellion against him. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt. This mutant...Aconasems, or whatever she fancies herself, was behind everything. 

What really galled him? She could potentially demolish an empire within hours, what took him over 20-years to build. And it wasn't near the legacy his father built in half that time. Strucker resolves, he should arrange another tele-conference to air out their differences. Maybe he could undermine this mutants treachery before it spiraled out of control. He boots his computer clicking J-Net. 

Scorpio 

Modok and Doctor Octopus 

Gemini

Ra's al Ghoul

Jarox Falcon

Myles Daley

Their computers all beep about the same time. J-Net identifies their caller as Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker. All six debate even accepting his invitation, but ultimately give in and come online. 

Doctor Octopus breaks the stalemate snark affronting, “What do you want?” 

“Settle our differences, and...” Strucker starts, only to be cut off. 

“Differences?” Scorpio humphs loudly, “Is that what you call such deception?” 

“What deception?” 

“Oh, shut up, Daley,” Jarox Falcon shames him openly. 

“Why should he, Falcon?” Gemini only defends Daley making this point, “He only asked what the rest of us wish to know, but don't have the guts to ask? Isn't that right, Ra's al Ghoul?” 

Ra's said nothing. 

“His silence is golden,” Gemini plants seeds of doubt.

“What are you blathering about now? Still whining about being in your sister's shadows, huh, Pantywaist?” 

“You're a good one to talk, Modok,” Scorpio spits with much venom. 

“What'd I ever say or do to you, Sable?” 

Scorpio perceives his racial slur chiding, “How about hacking my computer, moving around my guards, leaving us open to attack, and costing my organization hundred of good people”. 

“Costing you,” Gemini growls. “How about you bombing Senor's island with over 400 of my people there...” He quickly realizes what he'd admitted in open session covering his tracks, “...to help secure our investment against whoever's been attacking us lately”. 

“Yea right!” Scorpio comes back. “I'll believe that when hell freezes over. What about you joining with Strucker and Modok/Doctor Octopus in attacking my people here in the Philippines? Isn't that why Strucker staged his errand boy's kidnap and murder?” 

“Is that what you think?” Sturcker looses his temper, not used to people treating him with such bitter contempt. “Is that why you murder my man? And his girlfriend?” 

“No, I didn't”. 

“Then why?” Struckers demands a straight answer. 

“He double-crossed us both”. 

“Like how?” 

From The Horse's Mouth

“Gentlemen, we should calm down,” Ra's encourages them all. “This isn't getting you anywhere”.

“Oh, how right you are,” Jarox sides with the master assassin. 

“I notice, you didn't say us, al Ghoul,” Doctor Octopus points out, ever the pessimist. 

“Of course he didn't,” Gemini spouts. 

“Ask Strucker why? He knows”. 

“Why's that Strucker?” Modok senses more behind this retort than petty anger. 

“I don't have a clue,” he lies through his teeth. 

“Sure you don't,” Scorpio indirect calls him a bold face liar. 

“Remember when I said Richter betrayed us both”. 

“Of course. What of it?” Strucker shrugs. 

“Just listen,” Scorpio boasts, smiling knowingly, “your man says it best. Now you must realize. My operative had just located your man, Richter, after his alleged kidnapping,” he adds air quotes. “He learnt how you'd put a price, $50,000, on his head, and was quite miffed. He says the rest...” Scorpio presses play. 

“I'm not the only pawn in his sick game,” Richter's yells, quite outraged. 

“What do you mean...?” 

“I serve him over 20 years. Faithfully... And what does he do? Puts a $50,000 bounty on my head. That's gratitude for you,” he spits. “But, you know what, Mr. High-And-Mighty?” 

“No, what?” 

“I wouldn't celebrate too soon, if I were you. There's a contract on your head, too”. 

“What?” 

“Betrayal's a bitch, isn't she?” Richter laughs in bitter mockery. 

Two gunshots thunder in the background. Scorpio shouts both mad and worried, “Shut up, or I won't miss next time”. 

“Go ahead, then you'll never learn who issued it, and what outfit holds said contract, Jaky Boy,” Richter goads Supreme Hydra over the Philippines. 

“The name's Scorpio,” she shoots back, only to give in. “Fine,” Scorpio drops his M4. “Who issued the contract?” 

“Strucker,” he abscise his boss' appellation. 

“No way”. 

“Hey,” Richter compares their services, “I served him twice longer than you. And he valued my allegiance at $50,000. How much would he value yours?” 

“Considerably more,” he asserts. “I don't just serve. I am Supreme Hydra over the Philippines”. 

“You quipped earlier. My boss viewed my posing a great threat unto his empire. Well, brother, you pose even a greater thereat. You 'stole' part of his father's empire. Hence, he views you as being worse than me. An usurper trumps a traitor in his book. Just think about it, and be honest with yourself. It's eye opening”. 

“Who holds this contract?” Scorpio asks the burning question. 

“The League of Assassins,” Scorpio ends his playback. 

“Now, you know why he never said us,” he ripostes. 

Both Strucker and Ra's simply sat there tongue-tied, unsure how to salvage this situation. Neither believed, their secret agreement had become so public. The rest simply sat there. Quiet and staring into their monitors, processing what'd just been said. 

Scorpio chides their timidity quipping, “Well, you heard it straight from the horse's mouth”. 

House of Cards

Gemini couldn't allow this child to have the last word. He clicking his .RAW file fast forwarding it til where Scorpio's left off, and lets it continue to play. 

“Why would he do this?” Scorpio questions the reasons behind these contracts. 

“Simple,” Richter voices comes through loud and clear. “Killing you, and your supporters will start a war among your supporters, to see who'd become the next Supreme Hydra. What they don't realize? They'd be doing Strucker a favor”.

“That's insane”. 

“So insane, in fact, it's brilliant,” Richter boasts. “Many, even among our own supporters, fear a truly global unified Hydra, like during the 40s and 50s. That was the main reason our loyalist helped Allied Forces divide us us into seven major factions. Strucker knows, many would readily do the same today. Only, he'd set up dummy factions; making it appear Hydra's still broken, when, in reality, he'd become Supreme, Supreme Hydra behind the scenes”. 

Gemini ends the playback arguing, “This would require him taking over... Not just my territory, but all ours. That's the real reason Ra's al Ghoul never says we. He has contracts over us all. Ready and waiting to kill us all...”. 

An explosion cuts his video feeds. Scorpio smirks, unsure why the transmission was severed mid-rant, but thankful to whatever supreme power governed the heavens above. 

Gemini comes back online, just long enough to spot his rival smirking, and jumps unto the wrong conclusion. “So, that's how it's gonna be, you sick...” 

Scorpio perceived all this animosity aimed his way. How wrong he was?

Gemini smiles defiantly into the monitor. He raises a radio hollering, “Attack!” 

Scorpio's home base comes under attack. Rippling explosions tear through its heart. Soldiers yell in hellacious agony, as automatic weapons thunder back and forth, on both sides. RPGs, mortars, and bombs descend, detonating on impact. Scorpio's video feed fades, but comes back into focus, several times, but ultimately goes black. Permanently. 

As did Gemini's a fraction of a section later. 

*

Strucker sensed the demolition already starting. And he couldn't do anything to stop this. Fists bawled up tight, almost instinctively, he was so blind with furor. 

*

Another explosion breaks his stupor. Strucker stares incredulously back into the monitors, just in time to witness HenchCo's situation room's vault room tumble over. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents rushes inside securing the room, “Myles Daley, you're under arrest...” 

That was enough. Strucker killed the connection, even sent a surge pulse through the line frying his entire communications network among the different factions. Alarms blare and sparks fly, as every computer explodes one-by-one. Violent flames leap outside their hollowed carcasses. The smoke only grew darker and thick by the moment. And the sprinkler system never kicks on. The nearest agents grab their prisoner ushering him outside to safety. Everyone positive what'd just occurred. 

House of Cards, Two

“Warning, warning, Purple Shadow breached,” their base's AI warns the partners. 

“What?” Modok worried most. Purple Shadow was the code name given unto his secret company in Frankfurt, Germany.

Modok taps select keys on his communications board. 

“Master Modok,” Gino Bane greets him, “what have an issue here?” 

“How bad can things really be?” Modok denigrates. Knowing the president/CEO of Genormic-8 Research sometimes overreacts when facing certain challenges. 

“Real bad, Master Modok,” he switches on the lobby cameras. A picture said more than words ever could. The lobby was bustling with activity, more than usual. 

“What's going on there, Bane?” 

“German BND backed by MAD along with Military Counterintelligence Service, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents are raiding us, even as we speak”. 

“Why wasn't I warned about this ahead of time?” 

“That, Sir, I don't know”. 

“Well, Bane, what the hell do you know?” 

“Only this, Master Modok. These agents simply showed up here with a writ of search...” 

“For what?” 

“Uh...” He hesitates. 

“For what?” Modok demands more authoritatively. 

“Security personnel came across her, about 10-minutes ago,” Banes switches over unto another hall camera. A guard comes into view doing his rounds, rattling doors and windows, making sure they're secure. The same guard moseys down the hall, but abruptly stops reaching for his sidearm.

Bane pauses the video explaining, “The guard here reported hearing a strange noise, like muffled screams, followed by something banging against the Cryolab's door. 

He resumes the video, “She averred something about hearing suspicious sounds, which grew louder the closer she got”. A trembling hands reaches up turning the doorknob. The door didn't budge, locked. A retinal and palm scan confirm the guard's identity deactivating the laser grid. She inserts her master override key into its slot. The security AI scans the card's magnetic strip unlocking the door. 

She barely cracks the door. A 5'6 (or 167.64-cm) brunette bulldozes her way outside screaming incoherently. The door slams into the guard's head dazing her momentarily. A secondary guards tackles the suspect taking her into custody, over being in a top secret research lab without authorization.

“Miss...” The second guard tries to question the suspect. 

Clothes torn. Barefoot. Eyes bleary, and pouring tears. Limb shaking uncontrollably. Still screaming incoherently, except a word here and there. 

“Enough drama, Bane. What was wrong with her?” 

House of Cards, Three

“Master, she claims, and I quote, some stocky, bug-eyed octopus with stone washed teeth and a very myopic laugh locked the cryogenics lab. She kept screaming something about a dead man. A guard went inside and discovered Mason Von Richter lying dead inside Cryotube #18”. 

He'd stayed quiet through all this. Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker could remain silent any longer. “That's impossible. He was shot inside my office by Scorpio”. 

“No, Sir, he wasn't,” Gino Bane corrects a major misunderstanding. 

“Bane,” Modok shouts, annoyed with these mind games, “what's going on there?” 

“Master, this is the real Mason Von Richter. Scorpio simply shot a clone”. 

` “A clone?” Modok mirror Strucker's surprise, “Who built this clone?” 

“The bug-eyed man as described by Miss Karla Herschel, an investigative reporter for MLBC. Communications logs prove, she captured a video of her assailant and notified authorities, and they've descended upon Genormic-8 Research”. 

“Great,” Modok hears good news, “show me this persons picture”. 

“Yes, Sir,” Bane vanishes, replaced by surveillance video of Richter, Miss Herschel, and Doctor Octopus, all inside the same lab. Clear as day, Doctor Octopus rams Richter through the head with two appendages piercing his brain. Miss Herschel freaks, trying to flee the lab. Doctor Octopus grabs, holding her in place with two appendages, and opens, shoving Richter inside Cryotube #17 with his free appendages. He temporarily releases her to open and trudge outside the lab. She tries to bolt past, only to be caught and shoved back inside, before locking the door behind himself.

His wrath boils over. Modok turns, facing his partner, shouting, “You kill an ally, hide his body inside my lab, and leave a witness alive to alert authorities about my operation. How stupid can you really be, Octavius (Doctor Octopus' real name)?” 

“I didn't....” 

Modok couldn't tolerate his hypocrisy hitting him with a psionic blast. Dr. Octopus flies back into the computer terminals. Their connection goes dead, too, seconds later.

*

Strucker curses aloud. He didn't see simply four blank screen. Each screen represented segments of his empire, crumbling faster by the moment. 

“Falcon, what...” He doesn't even get his question finished. A high powered shot ring out behind. Falcon gasps, arching his head. Shock and terror etched across his face. His eyes roll into his head, as he leans over and lays his head on the table dead. 

“Strucker, don't worry about S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Fury steps into open view. “We're in good hands. In fact, Global Justice should be there now”. 

*

Ra's al Ghoul gives his former partner a three fingers salute, before signing off and his screen goes dark too. 

Eye of the Storm

 

Kim soared high above Sten-Wauhl Enterprises in Sydney, Australia. She came across a startling discovery, one, which put a wrinkle in her original plan. Whoever controlled this lab replaced all its human employees with augmented cyborgs. Each mimicked human behavior and thought processes so precisely. She doubted many even realized themselves mere machines. Adding unto this delusion, the beebees and Mark-18 synthodrones acknowledged them as humans, too, securing the grounds. 

She circles back around settles behind the hills a couple miles away. “Father,” she coaches, “wait exactly 15-minutes, then release the bots”. 

“There's no way these things will match those,” Wolverine finds fault with this plan.

“I know they won't”. 

“Then, Chiyoko, what's the objective here?” 

“The objective is simple,” she smiles ruefully. “Get those bots attention. They'll contact whoever's really controlling this hive. And he/she/they will recognize S.H.I.E.L.D.'s LMDs, and will naturally assume, their   
base has been compromised. If we're lucky, they'll blow up the base”. 

“And if we're not?” 

“All hell will break loose,” Kim states bluntly. “Our primary object is get these captured scientists out safely, before whoever own this base detonates it or unleashes whatever havoc waits here”. 

“You're expecting these scientists to explain this secret weapon's strengths and weaknesses, aren't you, Chiyoko?” 

“Like it or not, right now, they're still our best hope”. 

“Yea, I know,” Wolverines agrees, but adds. “and that's what worries me”.

“Why's that?” 

“When we start agreeing, usually all hell breaks loose”. 

Kim starts laughing. 

Wolverine remains stone faced. 

Her laughter quickly dies, realizing he's being morbidly serious. 

“Fine,” she huffs. “Let's just agree to disagree, we're simply in the eye of the storm. The worst is yet to come, Father”. Kim starts rising into the air. 

Wolverine wouldn't let her leave without getting his say, “Now, that I'll buy. See ya, when all hell raining down around us”. 

Kim laughs, shaking her head, still rising higher into the air. 

Wolverine sets his stopwatch for 15-minutes, starting the countdown.


	21. Final Ditch Effort, Blades of Contention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supreme Hydra Struckers knew by now. He couldn't possibly save his empire. His factions' leaders were getting arrested left and right. His people murdered all around him. He feared he might be next. Struckers abandons his current alias, but feared, even that might not be enough. He hacks SHIELD from his current office one last time. He launches thousands of sentinels. First, it'd keep authorities busy. Second, he could gauge this Aconasema's true passion, power or people. If people, he could gauge her power levels.

Belly of the Beast

Strucker's kept beeping, an wouldn't stop. No sooner would her answer one call. Someone else would call with more bad news. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

“Yes”. 

“Master Hydra, the Avengers led by Iron Man are hitting Modok and Doctor Octopus' base in full force”. The operative disconnects before her could glean further details. 

“Beep. Beep. Beep”. 

“Strucker”. 

“Master, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s laying siege against Scorpio”. Again, his operative hangs up without so much as signing off. 

“Beep. Beep. Beep”. 

“Stucker,” he snaps briskly. 

“Master, Global Justice's broke up the Gemini and Scorpio's gang war. I suggest you flee. Your man, Richter, told Scorpio your current alias, Jonathan Quincy, and your whereabouts. We...” The connection goes dead, possibly severed, and operative most likely dead. 

*

Kim phases through the concrete building and bedrock beneath. She continues into the subterranean area searching til locating the labs. These weren't typical labs, one might imagine. Each was set up like an individual cellblock. Scientists jammed together like sardines based on their group's task and areas of expertise. Her ear bud vibes, signaling 15-minutes over with. 

Top ground. His water beeps, too. Wolverine still doubted this plan. LMDs didn't pose much, if any, distraction. He swallows his own uncertainties activating the LMDs. Wolverine gasps in surprise as the LMDs take on their disguises as members of Team Go and Superman and his pals. Wolverine deploys his claw and jumps in for some fun of his own. 

*

Blaring alarms drown out his beeping computer. His screen flashed red displaying the message, “Boracon Breach in progress,” over and over, after each flash. 

Strucker pales under the implications. Boracon was the code name for the subterranean labs, set up underneath Sten-Wauhl Enterprises. 

“Sten Wauhl #7 online,” he types into his computer. 

The company's cyborg CEO, Sten Wauhl, appears on screen, “Yes Sir”. 

“What's the nature of the emergency there?” 

“Superman and his team, along with Team Go, and another team from Middleton, Colorado, are here attacking our place of business, Master”. 

“They're after our prisoners”. 

“Most definitely, Sir”. 

“Damn, they can expose our sentinels strengths and weaknesses,” he shouts, leaving little doubt. “Is everything ready for Stage #2?” 

“Phase #1 was never completed; nevertheless, we proceeded with Phase #2 with what we had, Sir”. 

“Cyborg #7, kill the hostages, then launch the sentinels, each preprogrammed to strike a certain target”. Strucker signs off, pulling the level above his computer. An acid seeps down, eats through its plastic case, even slowly devours its metallic components. A thunderous explosion sets off proximity alarms. He didn't bother checking for intruders. Strucker scans his palm print. A section of wall slides opens revealing an emergency escape. Strucker disappears through its tunnel. 

Rumbles of War

Fighting on topsoil heat up spilling over into the desert roundabout. Wolverine personally scrapped 3 to 1 BeeBee and synthodrones when compared with his LMDs. Even so, they weren't as unless as he'd originally expected. 

The ground started to shake under his soles. Solid earth cracks open. Whole buildings crumble into piles of rubble. For no apparent reason. Outlying buildings swallowed whole. 

Rumbling thunder emanated everywhere at once. High above. In a clear blue sky. Wolverine knew, that sound always spelt trouble, with a capital-C. He withdraws from the battle hiding in wait. 

And sure enough. Eight F-18s scream across the open sky at Mach 1.8 diving. The pilots open up. Their M61A2 Vulcan Gatling-style cannons spewed 20-mm rounds digging up the ground roundabout and cutting synthodrones and BeeBees in half within seconds. The chaos didn't stop there. 

AMG-65 missiles descend with a shout detonating on impact. Fiery miasmas only grew in size and numbers with each detonation, sweeping across the battle field. Every LMD was destroyed within 30-seconds. They'd no sooner thinned the herd. More synthodrones and BeeBees kept piling outside this factory/research facility. 

Wolverine activates his suit's stealth, shielded from these mechanical soldiers and pilots' IFR. He observes the chaos continue to unfold, debating what he should do next. He doesn't even reach a viable decision, when...

An enormous saucer decloaks amidst the fighter jets. The spaceship fires its weaponry, reengages its cloak, and vanishes again, before the pilots could get off a single shot. Two quantum torpedoes streak across an deep auburn sky detonating upon impact leveling not only the research facility, but outlying buildings as well. The ground rumbled for several miles roundabout him, leaving nothing but parched earth, crumbled debris, and miniatures dotting the landscape. 

Wolverine stood aghast, shocked over the magnitude of devastation. He knew beyond any doubt. Chiyoko was behind this. And that saucer was hers. She mentioned owning one. 

*

Things weren't much better below. Chiyoko dropped the last cyborgs, sent to slay the prisoners. She was about to free them, when sections of the ceiling fractured, caving in and burying scientists under tons of rocky sludge, uprooted plants and other vegetation, and other debris. 

Cave ins breaks nearly every lab's environmental and emergency containment seals. Tremors reach into their depths, only making matters more dangerous. Overhead lights snap lose, swing by their wires, and shatters select lab windows. File cabinets tip over doing more damage. Storage cabinets land against the floor. Beakers shatter and volatile chemicals mix, while terrified scientists scream in mortal danger scrambling for cover, and hoping for the best. 

Some don't reach cover in time. The first of many explosions go off. Anything not nailed or bolted down gets picked up and tossed with such speed and force shattering anything fragile across this base. Violent explosions spread throughout the subterranean area like a chain reaction. Blasts knock down walls, crumbling parts of the ceiling, as fiery miasmas consume people, still trapped and screaming for someone, anyone, to help save them. 

Kim duplicates herself. More and more people died the long this took. She tags each scientists, but without them knowing. Afraid, if they recognized her presence yet, they'd mob her and hinder getting the others out alive, too. She tags the last scientist shimmering into open view. 

“Luna, lock onto all beacons”. 

“Locked on, awaiting instructions”. 

“Encase everyone within Class-7 bio-stasis fields, but father and me, before beaming us back onto the station”.

“Done”. 

“Energize”. 

Battle of Wills

White light washes over them. A rumbling sound emanates everywhere. Giant robots burst through the bedrock beneath the labs, cave in whatever was left standing. 

Wolverine and Kim materializes back inside their Martian base. 

“Oh, my God,” Anne gasps, moved with compassion for the injured. She grabs her medical bag heading towards her newest patients.   
“Stop!” Kim orders. 

“They're hurt,” the doctor protests vehemently. 

“I know”. 

“But...” Anne goes to argue. 

“But nothing,” Kim silences her protest, or so she thought. 

“I can't just stand idly by and watch...” 

“Well don't...” 

“Don't what?” 

“Watch them suffer,” Kim doesn't budge. “I have other doctors, who'll treat them”. 

“Are they as qualified as me?” Anne challenges her judgment. 

“More than,” Kim riles her on purpose. “They're robotic doctors, designed and programmed with over 7,000,000 medical procedures, including over 85,000 rare complications, and what to do should these complications arise, while treating a patient”. 

“I don't trust damn computers”. 

“Doesn't matter. They're these people's only hope”. 

“Why, when I'm right here?”

Ordering didn't work. She shifts gears. “Doctor,” she reasons, “you may see injured people. And, while I agree, they are people, they're also potential weapons. Bio-sentinels, specifically”. 

“Oh, hell,” Wolverine mirrors his teammates chagrin. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Wolverine,” she questions his reaction, “what're bio-sentinels?” 

“Father, tell her what she wants. Please don't be too graphic”. 

Wolverine hears her voice in his head. He chooses his words carefully, “Bio-sentinels are people, just like you and me, only augmented with cybernetics”. 

“Like cyborgs?” She asks. 

“Not quite, Honey,” her husband explains. “Cybernetics can help the injured walk, talk, or even move their arms again. Cyborgs are essentially animated corpses with electronic brains, more computer than human. If I understand correctly, these bio-sentinels are sleeper cyborgs”. 

“Close, Doc. Very close,” Wolverine delves deeper. Hoping, she'd grasp the real threat these things posed. “Bio-sentinels aren't cyborgs, per se. They're as human as you, til a command signal activates their cybernetic implant(s), which subverts their consciences inducing a zombie-like state, taking control over their bodies, turning them into remote controlled puppets with enhanced strength, agility, and, yes, even intelligence (including skills a subject doesn't usually possess). Once done with their assignment, their puppeteers simply turn off their puppets. Each would simply resume his/her everyday lives, unaware about anything he/she did while under their masters' control, which can including murdering someone on command”. 

“Even so,” Anne counter argues, “they deserve human care. Not robots”. 

“Doctor, get in there with your daughter! Now!”. 

Anne Possible didn't budge. Staring her down. 

“Very well,” Aconasema sighs heavily. 

“Luna, lock onto every bio-sentinel and beam them on the Martian surface on my mark”. 

“No!” Anne protests loudly. “You can't...”. 

“Oh, yes, I can...and will, if you push me, Doctor!”. 

All eyes shift between both women. 

“Alright. You win,” Anne surrenders, and snuggles into her husband's embraces sobbing lightly 

“Glad you'd listen unto reason, Doctor”. 

“Luna, get them unto the medics below”. 

Beating The Odds 

One problem solved, she turns her attention unto the next issue, “Luna, sentinels were launched, before our being beamed out. How many?” 

“Please specify which location,” the AI seeks more information. 

“You mean there was multiple launches at once?” 

“Correct,” the AI confirms. “Please specify which location you desire information about?” 

“How many locations?” 

“Six”. 

“When?” 

“Approximately 10:23 a.m. EST”. 

“Where?” 

“3,500 Mark-19 Sentinels from Sydney, Australia”. 

“2,500 Mark-18 Sentinels from Cebu City, Philippines”. 

“1,700 Mar-17.5 Sentinels from Johannesburg, Africa”. 

“2,284 Mark18 Sentinels outside Madrid, Spain”. 

“3,000 Mark-19 Sentinels from Saga, Japan”. 

“3,000 Mark 18 Sentinels from a S.H.I.E.L.D. warehouse in Norwich, New York”. 

“Totaling, 16,184 sentinels”. 

“Run global war simulations, and extrapolate best case and worse case scenarios, how many people will die and get injured including property damage during Hydra's civil war, Luna?”. 

Luna didn't answer right away. Her board lit up. Lights blinking and beeping, conducting millions of calculations per second. Luna assesses the situation proclaiming.... 

“Best case scenario, 18 million dead with an estimated 54-80 million more injured, along with an approximate $576 Billion in civil damages”. 

“Worst case scenario, 2.8 billion dead along with an estimated 800 million to 1 billion injured, with approximately $38.7 Trillion in property damage”. 

“We only lose 40% of the worlds population in a worst case scenario?” 

“Correct”. 

“I can live with that,” she turns, about the leave the room. 

All Eyes Upon You

Every single person there stood aghast. Mouths agape and eyes flared in anger. 

Ron and Hanna, his sister. 

Their parents, Dan and Olivia Stoppable. 

James and Anne Possible, and their sons. 

Professor X. 

The X-Men. 

Xavier Institute's entire student body. 

No one said anything. Positive or negative. Wolverine didn't need telepathy. All eyes locked upon him mirroring their detestation, screaming....

'Earlier you argued about her humanity. Now's a good time to start the redemption process. That, or millions will perish over your cowardice and her inaction”. 

“Chiyoko, you can't simply let those people die,” Wolverine appeals unto her humanity. “They're living, breathing souls, not numbers on some actuary's board”. 

“Hey,” Dan Stoppable takes issues with him. 

“Not now, Dad,” Ron rests his hand on his father's shoulder, and Hanna grips his right hand. Dan Stoppable holds his furor. 

“You don't think I know that!”

He didn't respond right away, nor did anyone else. 

“You esteem my inaction as those of an emotionally devoid sociopath, don't you?” 

Again. No one say anything, even avoiding eye contact. 

Chiyoko screams aloud in frustrations, “Let me assure you. I'm very much in touch with my emotions. Why else would I react so violently over my parents and siblings murders? Or so swiftly over Possible? My actions are those of a cautious general, not some emotionally unstable psycho”. 

“What do you mean, Young Lady?” 

“Simple, Professor,” she addresses everyone else's concerns, too. “Ex-Supreme Hydra Strucker knows I'm responsible for breaking up his empire. His profilers built this complex psychological profile. It didn't help him stop me. His spies probed my past to find some exploitable weakness: family, friends, acquaintances, any vice. Again nothing. Just then. At the last second, before his house of cards came crashing down, he perceived my single greatest weakness”. 

“What's that, Chiyoko?” Wolverine grows genuinely concerned about her safety. 

“I care about people”. 

“Is that really such a bad thing?” Hanna didn't understand what she meant. She only wanted her to become more human, and care about others. 

Chiyoko perceives the little girl's intentions, easy enough, smiling friendly, and explaining, “Not usually, Little One, except when dealing with madmen, like Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker. Simply caring about someone, anyone, puts them in mortal danger...if for no other reason, than as leverage against me. He's slaughtered men, women, and children, by the thousands, and never shed a single tear. My defending Possible's world told him enough”. 

“What are you saying, Miss?” 

“Simply this, Mr. Possible. He couldn't stop me in time to save his empire. Hence, did two final acts of defiance. First, he's issued a $200 billion bounty on my head. Lastly, he's striking at the one thing I care about, people”. 

“How's he doing this?” Ron asks. 

“He accomplishes several things by releasing these sentinels. First, he's testing a theory. Do I really care about this world? Or just certain people? And, if so, who? He can also extrapolate my upper and lower power limits. Armed with this knowledge; he won't be caught off guard and can better defend his next empire. You must ask yourself. Do I act and save a few people, which could inversely end up costing millions more their lives?” 

Carried By The Winds 

“He'd kill millions simply to get even with you?” Ron couldn't fathom why he'd be so petty. 

She discerns him struggling to comprehend such brutality. “Sidekick, don't beat yourself up. You're a hero. No matter how hard you argue otherwise. Truth is, your girlfriend and you have never truly faced someone like Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, a.k.a. Supreme Hydra”. 

“What about...?” 

“Dementor, Drakken, Senor Senor, even Shego don't hold a candle unto this guy,” she dejects his retort. “Why else would they be so easily roped into his organization's services? Lives mean nothing unto this madman. Even loyal subjects are little more than pawns to achieve his next objective, whatever that may be. Everyday people. Those outside his organization means even less”. 

Reasoning alone wasn't working. Hanna knew she must connect with her humanity another way. She grabs the remote tuning in the latest news, turning up the volume. 

“Hello,” an Hispanic female report thunders with great urgency, “my name's Sarah Neubly, chief anchor at GBNN, New York. We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you, our viewers, late breaking news. Piercing rumbles emanate everywhere over New York. Many viewers called us inquiring about: Thunder? Earthquake? Fireworks? Demolition crews? 

We at GBNN heard your concerns concerning a recent mysterious event. I'm here to set you, our viewers, at ease. An anonymous but reliable S.H.I.E.L.D. source assures this reporter, this piercing rumble   
stinging our ears, rattling our windows, even driving fear into our hearts' cores aren't natural atmospheric phenomena or exuberant teens throwing a wild party and shooting off fireworks. 

No. What we hear may've been the first rumbles of WW-III. White House Spokesman, Andrea Reese, announced ten minutes ago, 'President Thomas declared Red Level, DEFCON-1 status. Which means, martial law's in force. All local precincts, state and federal law enforcement agencies, including all military agencies and reservists are called into active duty.

The sad but undeniable truth is, what occurs over the next 3-hours will determine our nation, and maybe the world's fates. They say, the world's always darkest, before dawn. Maybe there's hope yet. One authoritarian seems to really have a handle on this crisis. Her name's Dragon Phoenix”. 

Wolverine and the rest glimpse her way. Kim kicks back propping up her heels as if without a worry in the world. 

“She claims, this isn't our nation or this city's first crisis of this nature. In fact, her video documents a similar incident occurring in Louisville, New York. Our acoustic techs confirmed an identical sound print with those we heard earlier above New York. 

Dragon Phoenix delivered us a tape, where Saran Maddox, Chairman of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret Oversight Committee, details how she and Modok, a criminal mastermind and IT genius, hacked Trask Industries to obtain the design schematics, matching the operational codes they'd already stole from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s weapon database, for sentient robots, designed and built by Trask Industries and Stark Industries, under ONE's crackdown on the growing threat of Omega-class mutants, code named Operation Final Freedom.

And why'd they do this, you might ask? Profit. Plain and simple. Greed. Maddox and her allies later could legally launch metal monstrosities to hunt and eliminate mutants. Only, something went wrong. Someone hacked their operating systems giving them new instructions: eliminate every mutant and humans living in New York City. Capitalizing their crimes, they tried to set up three teen, all members of Team Possible, along with Betty Director, Senior Director of Global Justice, and Nick Fury, Senior Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., over launching over 150 of these metallic assassins. 

Luckily, that massacre was upstaged by Dragon Phoenix, who also cleared both Team Possible, both directors, and their perspective agencies. Our situation now is graver than ever. Last estimates speculated over 16,000 deadlier sentinels being launched, this time. Manual override and self-destruct sequences mysterious failed or, as some speculate, have been sabotaged. Either way, nations are gearing up. Sentinels closing fast on their borders from all four corners. 

Blades of Contention

Tracy Lawrence, Stark Industries' spokeswoman, said, these tin men were built to battle mutants safeguarding humanity. And yet, they're attacking both human and mutant. Even now, American and Canadian forces have united in attacking these tin men over land and sea”. The camera splits, showing three major battles: one over the bay and two over land. 

“Ground forces have proven largely ineffective against these metal titans. Naval forces did bring down six, before being swarmed by sheer numbers and carriers sank. Air defenses didn't fair much better. Similar hopeless battles rage across land and sea. The human spirit isn't easily broken. Brave men and women fight on, despite these robots' armor shielding making them almost impervious unto conventional weapons. 

Global authorities are outraged, and asking. Who'd dare do this? And why? Knowing such tactics could kill millions, and possibly start WW-III”. Her teleprompter beeps. Sarah Neubly becomes even bolder declaring, “This just in. Dragon Phoenix must be listening somewhere. She just identified those responsible, even provided proof for perspective authorities: 

Supreme Hydra Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker launched 3,000 Mark 18 Sentinels under his latest alias, Jonathan Quincy, CEO of Maurel Aviation, from a....get this,” she glares into the camera with utter disbelief, “from a S.H.I.E.L.D. warehouse in Norwich, New York. In related news, Saran Maddox's successor, Jarox Falcon, was shot and killed by Nick Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Senior Director, less than an hour ago, while trying to flee arrest. Wow, this must be a first. Ever. Global Justice and S.H.I.E.L.D. have a land standing rivalry. It seems, both directors have reconciled their differences and cooperating on this operation. 

Two hours earlier, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice agents raided HenchCo Enterprises arresting its VP Myles Daley, who'd been with the company 14 years. It's quite unclear at this time, whether or not he's being charged in connection with our current crisis. 

Scorpio launched 2,500 Mark-18 sentinels from Cebu City, Philippines. Dragon Phoenix tipped authorities about his whereabouts. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice strike teams are hitting his HQ even as we air this broadcast. 

Africa's Domestic Branch Security Agency confirms, a private war erupted between Scorpio and WEE. Over what? It's unclear. NSA Paul McGruder speculates, Gemini launched 1,700 Mark-18 sentinels from Johannesburg, Africa, in retaliation over Scorpio's preemptive actions. 

Dragon Phoenix delved deeper into this dispute, revealing. This 'civil war' centers around Hydra's seven head leaders squabbling. It seems, each wasn't content with simply ruling his empire. Greed won out. He wanted it all. And that's what really triggered this bloodshed, and launching of these sentinels. 

Modok and Dr. Otto Octavius, b.k.a. Dr. Octopus, conquered Hydra factions across Europe. Our mysterious Dragon Phoenix sows yet more blades of contention revealing. These partners launched 2,484 Mark-18 sentinels just outside Madrid, Spain. In more breaking news, Dr. Octopus murdered Mason Von Richter, a long-time associate of Supreme Hydra Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker, and left him body inside his partner's research company, Genormic-8 Research. Authorities arrested its CEO, even issuing international warrants over both Modok and Doctor Octopus. 

3,000 Mark-19 sentinels were also launched from Saga, Japan. This reporter contacted a source within the Japanese Defense Intelligence Agency. Either they didn't have a clue, or too scared to name a name. Again, Dragon Phoenix proves her fearlessness naming: Ra's al Ghoul, leader of the famed League of Shadows. 

The greatest mystery is, who launched those 3,500 Mark-19 sentinels form Sydney, Australia. The NSC speculates Scorpio being responsible, since he fronted Sten-Wauhl Enterprises. Raising more questions, Australia's Secret Intelligence Agency made a grueling discovery, calling the NSC's early assumption into question. Everyone there: board of directors, management, from the lowliest worker to the board of directors were replaced by high-tech cyborg-slaves to maintain the sentinels there. 

April Hudson, ASIA's Senior SIGINT Analyst, initially suspected Billionaire Industrialist and Entrepeneur Sebastian Samuel Senor, Sr., behind this latest launch. Further investigation revealed, Gemini, Head of WEE, attacked his private Caribbean Island, where Senor and his family had been vacationing for the last two months. Scorpio must've perceived Gemini and Senor meeting an act of betrayal. He retaliated within minutes bombing both the island and San-TechX Metallurgy, Inc.”

All hope seems lost. Many doubt we'd ever identify the culprit behind this Australian launch. Two minutes ago, we received, and have since confirmed the INTEL, the CIA back traced a satellite signal from Sten-Wauhl Enterprises to CEO Jonathan Quincy at Maurel Aviation, who was really Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker incognito. Authorities are tripling their efforts in locating him. Believe me, Dragon Phoenix should know a madman, being the Dark Phoenix's daughter...”


	22. What You Least Expect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim personally takes on Struckers' sentinel army, while avoiding Global Justice and SHIELD. Her greatest challenge still lays ahead, a face-to-face confrontation with her mother, who learns about the grandchild she never knew existed.

Voice of a Child

Sarah Neubly meant no insult. She only hoped to build support. Her remark backfired, lighting her fires of indignation. Kim jumps up. Fists bawled up. Claws deployed. Hands dripping raw plasma. “You'll regret those words, Lady. You hear me, regret them,” she yells bitterly driving her claws through the computer. 

The crystal screen shatters under an enormous explosion. Glass shards and plastic components scattered throughout the Martian base. Black smoke pours out its hollowed shell and electrical sparks course around her physical body. And she didn't notice too busy pacing back and forth. All there parts like the red sea eyeing her, terrified over what she might do next. To them.

Outside the base. A violent storm started to brew. Even on an alien world they'd already witnessed firsthand their devastating impact on Earth. All eyes shifted between their port window and the woman causing this. Winds howl past 500-mph (or 804.67-km/h) with gusts easily reaching into the triple digits. Thunder clashed loudly mirroring her fury, while lightning marred the planet's ruddy sky. This grew more violent with each passing moment encompassing all of Mars. Multiple tornadoes develop, some small others exceeding 70-meters wide. The whole base trembled under her growing fury. No one dared speak til hearing her last outbreak. 

“Dark Phoenix, indeed,” Kim plows her fist over and over into their base's metallic wall. 

Beast was an accomplished scientist, well acquainted with metallurgy. He'd never handled whatever was used in constructing this base. He worried how much pressure it could endure before breaching, and losing their artificial atmosphere. 

The blackest aura ever settles over her body. Fists drawn tight. Limbs trembling with raw fury. Skin ruddy red matching the marred skies overhead. Eyes jet black but ablaze. “I'll show these pathetic mortals,” she shakes her fists into the heavens. “I'll show'em, Mother. I promise, they'll learn...learn to watch their tongues and fear your name. Jean Grey. I'll show them what a Dark Phoenix can truly do. One who knows this power's nature and isn't afraid to use its full potential. They'll realize then, even in your darkest hour, you showed restraint...” 

“No,” a voice reaches above hers. 

Dragon Phoenix turns to view the speaker. 

“Hanna,” her parents reach for, only to have an invisible force restrain their hands by their sides dragging them back. 

Hanna rose into the air levitating above the base deck bawling, “You can't do's dis”. 

“And why can't I?” Dragon Phoenix snubs her little tears. 

“Kimmie's in there, too,”. Everyone assumed she meant lying unconscious in her hospital bed. 

Dragon Phoenix's rage falters slightly, like the calm before a catastrophic storm, asking, “What about her, Little Bit?” 

“Kimmie's my friend. And yurs. She teach me to accept me. I don't say dis to Mom or Dad. I's different. My skin. Hair. Eyes. Even hows I's talk. No matter how much they loved me. I different..” 

“Carrot-Top helped you come to terms with who you really are, didn't she?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “She say, I's had another mommy and daddy. Olds people helps me get a new family. New mommy and daddy loves me. I'z seen yours, too”. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. She no cares about what dese people say. She cries over you's being that mean birdy. She pfears you's hurting tousands”. 

Kindness Turns Away Wrath

Back on Earth. At Yamanouchi. Master Sensei was inside the temple meditating, and received a vision of their interaction. He saw her little hands start to glow, and knew what she was about to do, and crying aloud, as though she could hear him, “Hans, no,” in Japanese. 

*

“Here,” Her little hands had no sooner touched Dragon Phoenix's right cheek. Hanna loses consciousness plummeting towards the deck below. 

Her anger dissipates almost immediately. Dragon Phoenix moves with blinding speed catching the dying girl. She lays her gentle on the ground. Er hand start to glow mirroring the little girl's moments ago. “I can't take your life. Not only would losing it kill you. I have my own, mixed with yours, too, now. I return yours. Wake up, Little One”.

Hanna simply lays there. Eyes closed. Hand and feet motionless. Breathing shallow, groaning every so often. 

“C'mon, wake up,” she cries, laying her head on the little girl's chest. 

Wolverine lays his hand on her shoulder. He never speak. Sensing, it'd only make things worse. 

“Father,” she could bare looking into his eyes, only stroke the little one's hair, “how'd you reclaim your humanity? It's so damn hard. A part wishes I'd never learnt about its existence. It's been nothing but an endless source of pain”. 

Again. He wisely didn't answer, only listening, perceiving her speaking rhetorically. 

“I hurt everyone around me. Kim? Her parents? Her partner and his family? Now...” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “Now, I almost kill this little one, too. How'd you do it, Father?” 

This time, he discerns a finality in her voice. Very similar unto her mother's. A tone demanding an answer. “First, you must accept. Life isn't easy. Bad things happen every day. We all have the capacity to do good and evil. You and I...,well, we simply embraced our inner darkness, fearing the good would make us weaker. Oh, we try, and try hard, every so often to do some good, maybe balance the scales of cosmic justice. I don't know yours. Motives differ by person and situation. 

Point is, we tried. Don't dwell on the failures. View them as learning experiences. It's true, people seem to get hurt whenever we're around, no matter how hard we try to avoid it Professor taught me, people get hurt everyday. That isn't my fault. Why should I blame myself over being present? Maybe, just maybe, more would've gotten hurt if we weren't there? That was my first lesson in redemption”. 

She tunes out the rest, leans over the little one, and kisses her forehead mewling, “That's what you meant, in your own way, wasn't it, Little One?” Of course she didn't respond. “I'll save your people. Maybe that's my first step Father speaks about”. 

In-Appropriate Response

Outside the base. The storm only grew worse. And yet, she'd calmed down, or at least seemed to by appearances. Wind quickly roar past 700-mph (or 1,126.54-km/h) with gusts off the scales. Thunder bewails her own sorrow and lightning ululate the coming massacre. Even the tornadoes grew in size. The base seemed to defy the resulting 'earthquakes,' Mars' greatest fury. The pressure builds til many volcanoes erupt spewing more magma and ash into the atmosphere. And this was when she's happy. 

“Dragon Phoenix, I collected and analyzed the data, as requested”. 

“What'd you learn, Luna?” 

“Well, I emailed Miss Neubly at GBNN. This info's going across the airwaves as we speak. These sentinels are neither Stark Industries nor Trask Industries' models. Strucker, Scorpio, Modok, Dr. Octopus, even Daley and Ra's al Ghoul corroborated in building these at Sten-Wauhl Enterprises, but, paranoid as they are, each built their own individual models. I'm guessing, in case one partner double-crossed the others. He and his factions could easily crushed the aggressor(s). What puzzles me, Sten-Wauhl Enterprises' models possess override matrices”. 

“Meaning?” She plays innocent. 

“Meaning, we can override the others' A.I.s, but cannot destroy them”. 

“Beautiful. I know exactly what we should do,” Dragon Phoenix declares with exuberance. 

Wolverine recognized that tone. Jean used that same one, anytime she planned on doing something utterly reckless and dangerous, which could only mean, “Oh, no, you can't be serious”. 

“It's the only way, Father”. 

“What are you two babbling about, Logan?” 

“Professor, she wants her tech geek to override these monstrosities' A.I.s merging them into one colossal sentinel, all 16,000”. 

Pure shock and horror mar the schoolmaster's face. “You can't,” he tries to reason with this young woman. “Global authorities are barely handling them, as is. You combine them, and nothing on Earth would be able to stop these things”. 

“That's the whole point,” she beams, turning to leave. 

“What?” The Possibles, Stoppables, and X-Men clamor. None wanting to imagine what might be going though her head. 

Back in control, Kim ignores their protests, grasps Hanna's hand, leans with teary eyes kissing her forehead whispering, “Don't worry, Little One. You concentrate on getting better. I'll save your people. You redeemed my humanity. I warn you, though, You'd best not die, while I'm gone, or I'll resurrect these damn things and release them below. You hear me, Young Lady”. 

Wolverine was about to rebuke her sharply. A humane person wouldn't threaten something like that. Only, she vanishes in thin air. 

What You Least Expect

All eyes turn back towards where the monitor set. Amazingly, somehow, a new one set where the destroyed one had. 

“This just in,” Sarah Neubly, chief anchor for GBNN News, gasps in tears over the update coming across her teleprompter, “it seems, the Dark Phoenix is still very much alive, and trying to redeem her name. Moments ago, thousands of her black fiery silhouette appeared high above New York City. Each locked onto these metallic soldiers like ballistic missiles. Only, these didn't detonate upon impact, but reduces these robots to atoms.

In late breaking news, President Thomas downgraded our current alert status. Martial law remains in effect. Paul McGruder, National Security Advisor, assures this reporter the president isn't being premature. China, Russian, France, Australia, Japan, even the Philippines have taken similar measures. It seem, everyone the world over are breathing easier over the Dark Phoenix's help; whereas, less than two decades ago, everyone was reluctant to even mention her name”. 

*

What they didn't know. Her phoenixes didn't atomize but shrink these 100-ft (or 3,048-cm) sentinels down unto gnat size, all 16,184, and teleported onto the Martian surface.

“Now, Luna,” Kim's voice comes over the base speakers. 

“Command signal terminated,” Luna erects a dispersal field. “Interfacing with A.I. Interface with Sydney sentinels, and initiating assimilation process”. A new command signal override their directive cores. Sydney's sentinels seize control over the others' A.I. Interfaces.

Luna peels back the whirring, cyclonic sands storms. Everyone squints their eyes, as a speck on the viewer grows into a towering 200-ft (or 6,096-cm) tall monstrosity.

Aconasema plummets out the marred auburn sky. She lands feet first upon its crimson soil, clad in metallic gold armor, head to toe, even her eyes. She, too, gains mass growing til equal size. 

The mega sentinel raise both arms so fast blasting her before she could react. 

Aconasema takes both shots square in the chest. Flying back, her crepitating aura literally explodes with atomic force leveling an entire mountain in seconds. She leaps into the air taking flight. 

Her robotic opponent does the same. In hot pursuit. 

* 

“How's she breathing out there?” Ron asks. 

“I don't know, Ronald,” Dr. James Possible wonders the same thing. 

“She doesn't require oxygen, int that form,” a spry, smiling younger redhead answers him. 

Anne Possible whips around, “Kimmie!” Both parents and her brothers lock her within a tender embrace, overjoyed to see her back up and around again. 

“Excuse me, Little Lady, how do you know...” 

“Pftt! She's your daughter, please,” Kim rolls her eyes hobbling into the room. 

Wolverine does a double-take growling.

Anne discerns the mutant's irritation towards her daughter. She tries to diffuse the tension asking, “Kimmie, you knew about this Aconasema being Jean Grey and Mr. Wolverine's daughter?” 

“Of course I did,” she smiles unapologetically. 

“Why didn't you say something?” Professor X only asks what weighing on his oldest friend's mind. 

“Simple, Professor,” she beasts no bones. “First, it wasn't my place. She's his daughter, and I knew, she'd tell him when ready. Hang around her a while, and trust me, you can't miss the similarities in their glowing dispositions. I mean, c'mon, I shadowed your team less than a week and agreed. He wasn't ready to be a father. Just look how he reacted when she tried...” 

“Why, I ought to...” Wolverine loses his temper deploying his claws. 

“Lotus Bloom,” a magic sword appears in her hands. 

Wolverine stops cold. 

“Kim, no...” Ron goes to rebuke.   
“Stay out of this, Ronald, or we're through”.

“Lotus Blade,” another magic sword appears in his hands. He stayed behind, ready and waiting, in case she needed back up in her weakened condition. 

“Whiskers,” she insults Wolverine, “hate me, if you must. Frankly, I don't give a damn. Know this. We're mystical monkey masters. Known and even feared by your Yashida clan. So, you'd best believe me, when I say, I'm not intimidated by your likes. You boast about living by a code of honor. Well, so do we. If you can't understand then why telling you was her decision and not mine, then yours amounts to nothing but blind pride. If that be the case, strike and let's settle this once and for all”. A crepitating blue aura settles over her body. Those present clear the way, just waiting on his decision. 

Wolverine does the unexpected. He retracts his claws laughing heartily, saluting, “I like you, Little Red. No wonder my daughter chose you as her friend and confidant”. 

Ron relaxes his stance. Kim wouldn't. She'd seen too much since liberating Aconasema. “I'm glad you approve me. Don't delude yourself. We're not friends. Don't misunderstand me. I'll continue being friendly towards her. But, friendship requires she return my affections, which she doesn't. Aconasema closed herself off, guilt over her family dying and her living. She may be all powerful, but can't deal with simple emotions. That's her biggest stumbling block to redeeming her humanity. I've worked with her many years. And you see how little she's progressed”. 

Wolverine said nothing, but takes into consideration what this young woman said. He turns back towards the monitor. 

Rumble on the Horizon

Aconasema lands near Gordii Dorsum area, about 800 miles (or 1,287.48-km) from Olympus Mons. 

Her metallic opponent was far behind. He touches down with such force. The impact creates ripping dunes over the Martian surface, powdering the rocks beneath its metal soles. The sentinel takes aim firing its 300-terajoule lasers. 

Kim easily dodges each shots diving and rolling across the martian surface. And yet, she doesn't counterattack. 

*

That wasn't what disturbed Ron most. That Kimmie clone may look, talk, walk, even smell like his Kim. He knew, his was somehow outside this compound, on the lifeless, oxygen deplete Martian surface, fighting the 21st century Frankenstein's monster. “Why isn't she fighting back?” 

“Kid, I don't know,” Wolverine comments without diverting his eyes off the monitor. 

“Because she's smart,” Dr. McCoy compliments his teammate's daughter. 

“Yea,” James Possible adds, “she's letting the robot attack and wear itself down, while Mars' iron oxide particles stirring in those heavy crosswinds reek havoc with its internal circuitry”. 

“I noticed that,” Beast joins the scientific debate. “Luna permitted my accessing her systems. And I've been timing this sentinel's response times”. 

Everyone turns, eyeing him disgruntledly. 

“What?” He shrugs, not seeing their problem. “This is truly a first. Sentinels have never assimilated before. Why pass up studying their schematics and response times, for future models?” 

“We agree... 

“...with you, Doc,” Tim mirrors his brother's curiosity, taking their own readings, too. 

Their debate quickly devolved into a vicious silence. Some for, but most against studying these contraptions. Such tension didn't dissuade James, his boy, or McCoy. 

*

Aconasema dodges several more shots. Even she noticed, her opponent was indeed slowing down. The Martian sandstorms blanketing the region grew worse. Two twisters touched down moving closer. Sun blotted out. Temperatures plummet well below -300oF (or -184.4oC). These frigid temperatures begin to also take its toll. Iron oxide solidifies against the robot's core disrupting its communications central matrix, serving as the robot's central nervous system. 

Its power matrix begins to fluctuate. Fail safes quickly get overloaded, and fail. Optical implant die, or rather shorted out by an amped up oxide-induced back surge. And its auditory sensors couldn't help compensate, unable to locate its opponent over the whirring winds, oxidic build up, and rumbling ground beneath its soles. 

Aconasema launches into an all-out attack: punching, kicking, and stabbing her metal opponent.

This metal assassin may be blind. Its replication matrix functioned just fine. No sooner does she inflict any damage. Despite lagging response times, its replication matrix kicked into action repairing the slightest damage. Tin Man lashes out, only grasping empty space. He twists this way and that, more the same. 

Aconasema stayed just out its reach. She studied her opponent with immense curiosity. If she didn't know better, she'd swear this monstrosity actually got angrier and more desperate with each miss. 

Tin Man lashes out one time too many, trips over its own feet, and lands face down in the Martian soil. 

Aconasema perceived her time to strike. She draws Mars-soule's, Blood Reaper Blade, leaps high into the arid climate, and comes back down with her full might. The blows delivered with such precision. Her blade severed its metallic head. The rest of its body goes limp. She claims her prize scooping up its head and body, and vanishes amidst the rumbling over the horizon. 

Shadow of Doubt

“Luna, where'd she go?” 

“Aconasema is no longer on Mars”. 

“Where's she?” Ron jumps in. 

“Aconasema is at the Phoenix Cluster Constellation's central black hole”. 

“That's impossible,” James Possible staggers over the calculations. “That constellation is over 5.7 billion light years away from us”. 

Luna repeats the same things, “Aconasema is at the Phoenix Cluster Constellation's...”

“How's this even possible?” James and McCoy condescend simultaneously. 

“That data isn't within the unit's operational parameters....” 

“Oh, shut up, you metallic miscreant,” James Possible snaps, before storming out, shocking his wife and everyone else there.


	23. Final Matters

Double Trouble 

Kim's double grows weary during all the excitement. She'd served her purpose, and faints shortly after hearing her dad's rant.

Wolverine catches preventing her from landing face first on the floor. He carries her into the infirmary, impressed by her courage. Injured and weak, she defended his daughter against him. "Rest, Scarlett heart," he bids, laying her on the bed and leaving to rejoin his team. 

Dr. Possible stayed behind, hidden amidst the shadows. She had this nagging hunch. A suspicion, she'd ignored long enough, but couldn't no longer. And, if she's right, she should have her answers very shortly. 

Kim didn't rejoin everyone else in the main area. She reappears inside the infirmary kneeling between her double and Hanna's bed. She grasps their hands tight, rears back her head, and fights back a torrent of tears and sorrow. 

“Well, Carrot-Top,” she sobs barely above a whisper, “I must be going. She's yours now. Watch over our baby”. 

Anne covers her mouth in shock. She imagined many things, never this. She could barely contain her own emotions, so torn up over her daughter's emotional state. 

“I'm the outsider now. What's left of Hydra's leaders and hired guns will be gunning for me. Not you two. Aconasema told me this'd happen, years ago. I wish I'd listen. But, no! I was so damn smart, thought i knew it all. If only I'd had, maybe I could stay with our Little One. I'm sharing this same wisdom. Hoping you'll listen where I didn't. Let this experience be your teacher, or better yet, temper your moral character and fiber. Better than mine. 

Just remember, we all age with the progression of time. Aging doesn't make you wiser. I've learnt so much from you both. Abandon your ideals and you damn your own soul. You, too, must learn, Carrot-Top, when you should and shouldn't fight for those same ideals. Pass that precious knowledge down unto our Little Warrior”. 

Eyes clouded with tears and mind with sorrow. She leans over kissing Hanna's forehead whispering, “Always remember, Little Hands, Mommy leaves because she loves you. Let them gun for my $200 billion bounty. At least, you're safe. And that comforts my heart, Little One”. Kim stands up and turns around, only to be greet with...

“Hello, Kimmie”. 

“Mom...” Kim belts out, caught off guard, but sniffling and drying her eyes. "I mean..."

“Drop the pretense, KImmie,” she waves dismissively. “I heard the truth, or at least enough to know beyond a shadow of doubt...” 

“Mom...” 

“Hanna's yours, isn't she, Kimmie?” 

“Wait,” she holds up two fingers. “Ron should be here”. 

It's Never Quite So Simple

Kim raises both hands. 

Ron appears inside the infirmary. 

“Luna, raise our psionic shields”. 

“Engaged Aconasema”. 

“Now ask your question again, Mom”. 

“Hanna's yours, isn't she, Kimmie?” 

Ron's mouth drops agape. His mind reeling with possibilities. Tongue paralyzed with so much uncertainty. Ears piqued, desiring to hear his best friend's response. 

“Yes and no”. 

“Kimmie, she is or isn't,” her mother wouldn't accept a neutral answer. “Which is it? Yes or no?” 

“Aconasema conceived, but I birthed her”. 

Ron and Anne does a triple take mulling over what she'd said. 

“How's that even possible, KP?” 

Kim drops her head sighing heavily, but responds, “Aconasema, Chiyoko, whatever name you give her, she's tens years older than me...” 

“What about her not needing a material body, KP?” 

“She doesn't need one, Ron. Hers only ground her with our reality. She avenged her earth parents, then entered into cryo-sleep, and slept many, many years. Her earth parents chose her a betrothed. He grew older while she slept. It's true, I stumbled into her temple, and unwittingly release her from stasis. She went her way. And I went mine”. 

“But, she said, you were injured; dying even, KP”. 

“That part was true,” she doesn't deny the truth. “She also joined our essences”. 

“Meaning,” Anne assumes, “you shared her powers and healing essence, which, I guess, was how you could handle Shego and those other criminals so easily”. 

“Partly,” that's all she'd admit. 

A vortex opens and light dissipates.

“Master Sensei?” 

The old ninja master ignores his young blonde pupil eyeing someone else, and asking, “Aconasema, where am I?” 

“Deep inside my Martian base, Master Sensei”. 

“What's this about?” 

“My baby”. 

“I see,” his eyes dart between Anne and Ron. “Your aura? What's changed, Aconasema?” 

“We're fused now. No longer simply joined, Master,” she informs him bluntly. 

“But,” he notices Kim Possible's sleeping form, “what about her?” 

“Check your maturation chamber back home,” she advises him, “and you'll discover it empty”. 

“Maturation chamber?” Anne Possible fumes. “You cloned my daughter without my permission?” 

Master Sensei nods yes. 

“Why?” Ron beats Anne unto the punch. 

“Your daughter was found to be with child,” he addresses Anne's parental concerns. 

“How's this even possible?” Annie wrestles with the truth. “My daughter's had gynecological exams since 12 years of age. Her womb and cervix didn't bear the marks of child birth”. 

“It's never quite so simple, Mother Possible”. 

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?” Anne demands a straight answer, unapologetically. 

Double-Edged Secrets

“The ancients warn, nothing's more burdensome than a secret. The more you try and keep them, the sharper and deadlier they become, to you and those around you. Tell them your secrets, and you'll have surrendered you soul unto them, them, theirs, too. I say this, only to explain why your little girl's kept this secret so long”. 

“Enough philosophy, Sensei Sir,” Anne loses her temper, but tries to remain civil. “Please answer me straight, what happened to my baby?” 

“Aconasema ventured back unto Japan. There, she... she...,” she sighs heavily, uncomfortable with the topic at hand. Modesty prevented him going any deeper with a woman of her virtue.

“Mom,” she picks up where he couldn't, "she joined our essences reading my mind. She learnt, how Ron and I met in pre-K and fell in love. It only made her homesick for a simpler time in her life. She sought out her old betrothed, never stopping to think, she'd been in stasis over a decade. He'd gotten older, while she remained a child. Well, long story, short, he took advantage of her immaturnity”. 

“Do you mean...?” She couldn't even say it. 

“No, Mom, he didn't rape her,” Kim sets her heart at ease. “He did, however, take advantage of her naivety by tricking her into sleeping with him. A couple days later, she learnt about him already being married and with a son on the way. She intended on slaying him, but relented for the child's sake. She roamed the world a couple months, before returning. What we didn't know then? She was pregnant when she rejoined with me”. 

“I don't understand, KP, if she was pregnant, how'd you wind up with her child?” Ron crosses his arms over his chest. 

“What he said?” Anne Possible mimics him. A silent gesture demanding the truth. The full truth. 

“Honestly, we don't know”. 

“What do you mean you don't know, Kimmie?” 

“Just that, Mom, we don't know”. 

“Well, what do you know?” 

“It's only a theory...” 

“That's better than nothing,” her mother settles for that much. 

“Very well,” Kim yields, quelling her own growing anxiety. “Aconasema told you, she's not human, mutant, or alien”. 

“Yea,” her mother and Ron ponders the implications. 

“She's an incorporeal entity; meaning, she doesn't need a physical body. She wasn't always this way, conceived by deities but born unto a human mother. Her human essence was grounded with our reality. She lost that connection when Phonecia and Raja merged with her, like we did. She ceased being human, and could no longer indefinitely retain her human form. She didn't know this, then. 

Her betrothed was pure human. She slept with him. I theorize, he impregnated her human form. Not Aconasema, herself. I don't think she consciously realized this, but somehow unconsciously knew, her incorporeal essence couldn't sustain this pregnancy. I believe, that's ultimately why she returned, and transplanted her unborn child, Hanna, into my womb”. 

“Why didn't this show up in any of your yearly exams? Even Global Justice's myriad of tests they ran before you started doing their missions?” 

“Mom, like Master warned earlier, that secret's sharper than a double edge sword. There's no easy way to break this but outright. You and G.J. haven't tested me in many years. You've always tested my clone's plumbing. Not mine”.

“What'd you do upon learning about your pregnancy,” Anne asks with acute curiosity. 

Kim takes a deep breath blurting, “I fled to...” 

Honesty Above Al Else

“Yamanouchi,” Ron guesses. 

“Yes, Ron, I fled there”. 

“How? I remember that time period very distinctly. We celebrated our 16th birthdays together. Wade calls us both the next day. We disrupted Monkey Fist's dream of becoming the ultimate monkey master. That night, Rufus and I acquired mystical monkey powers. A week later invited to join Yamanouchi's secret student exchange program. I'd never told you anything about this back then. How could you have known Yamanouchi's location?” 

“Chiyoko showed me its location, Ron,” she hid her face in shame. “I'd never been so scared in my life; sitting across from an old foreign guy..." "No offense meant, Master Sensei". "None taken, Aconasema," he relates. "It must've been a scary time". "That's an understatement," Kim shakes her head chuckling softly. She sure wasn't laughing then, "I sat across a stranger telling him this impossible story. I was sure he'd laugh in my face and throw me out for wasting his time. Despite lingering doubts, Yamanouchi's mystic priests performed specific rituals, each accompanied with specific sacred tests. One did something. Aconasema made a guest appearance inside the temple, right alongside me. Her essence engulfing mine. All priests immediately recognized my protector and fled our presence keeping their distance”. 

“Where'd this other Kimmie come from?” 

“Yamanouchi, Mother Possible,” Master Sensei continues the explanation. 

“Why'd you clone my daughter?” 

“Stoppable-san acquired mystical monkey powers; through which, he became our mystical monkey master. We cloned him and her, since they're inseparable. Good thing, too. We'd just completed hers, when she showed up outside our gates, and insisted on speaking with me”. 

“She was there the whole time I was, wasn't she, Master Sensei?” 

“In the women's dormitories, Stoppable-san”. 

“And her clone back home with us, her father, brothers, and me, I mean,” Anne felt both insulted and hurt. 

“Why, Kimmie? Why?” She demands, almost in tears. 

“Plain and simple, Mom. I knew about my baby's unusual origins, and didn't want her winding up in some secret lab, like Shego and her brothers. I'd rather see her dead first”. 

Anne gasps, never expecting that last remark. 

“That's why you went so ballistic that night, wasn't it, KP?” 

“I don't know how you still feel about my actions, or me anymore, Ron. We haven't really spoken since that night. I doubt you'll ever appreciate my emotional state. But, yes, I... ” Her voice falters with tears. 

“But, all those people...dead”. Her mother shared his contempt over her actions. 

Master Sensei simply rests an assuring hand upon her shoulder. 

“Ron, Mom, please don't take what I say the wrong way. I regret those people's deaths. I really do. I, however, don't regret saving my child. Never doubt, I'd do the same thing in a heartbeat. Aconasema and I share one conviction. Those people force my hand by targeting my child, or they'd be alive today. If that means, you can't love me any longer. I won't lie, your rejection will hurt, but, my broken heart will mend over time. I'm alive as long as she is”. 

Kim brushes her little girl's raven locks adding, “Why else would I fly a shrieking jet pack all that way, from my house to yours, Ron, knowing full well, it could overload and explode any minute. All I cared about was her safety. Mine, yours, everyone else's was secondary in my mind. Then and now”. 

“So...what? All those dead guys? A product of a mother's scorn?” 

“Scorn?” She yells. “That had nothing to do with scorn, Ron. Scorn denotes a woman's retaliation over being dejected by her man, family, or lover. You did nothing wrong”. 

“Then, I'm afraid I still don't understand,” he buries his face in his hands. “What was all this about? You and all this rage unleashed that night?' 

Kim tosses her head back spiriting, “That night wasn't about rage. Yes, I was angry. And yes, I did kill those men and women. My aggression wasn't motivated by anger or revenge, only love. Pure and simple. The love of my child”. 

“So, you killed them for Hanna?” 

“Ron Stoppable, sometimes you can be so thick headed,” she scolds his immaturity. “No. I didn't kill them for, but to protect her. Have you ever heard the saying? It's better to meet a bear robbed of her cubs than cross a mother. Well, that night, those men crossed this woman by trying to harm my cub, Hanna.” 

Ron catches her drift cupping his throat, “Honesty above all else, hey, KP?”. Anne seconds that. 

“Take it any way you like. Both of you. Fact is, I'll stay near my Little One...,” five claws jet out her hands. Anne, Ron, and Master Sensei jump back, startled by this new development, and unsure what she may do. “...and kill anyone, who threatens her safety”.

Single Greatest Regret

“Be honest, KP,” Ron finds his voice, “how long were you with Master Sensei?” 

“16 months, Ron”.

“A year and four months?” 

Kim catches the betrayal in her mother's voice. She discerned, her brain hadn't caught up amidst this conversation, or she wouldn't have asked that question. “It's quite simple: 

Discovered Pregnancy..............................2-1/2 months  
Carried Baby.............................................6-months  
Birthed Her...............................................8-1/2 months later.  
Weaned Her..............................................6-months  
Totaling...................................................14-months"

“You mean....my sister...my baby sister nursed...”

“Ron Stoppable,” Anne slaps his arm, hard, “that's totally inappropriate....” 

Kim busts up laughing. Hard. She hadn't done that in quite some time.

“What's so funny?” Anne props both hands on her hips. Eyes narrow, shifting between Ron and her daughter, very disapprovingly. 

“Oh, I'm just happy things are calming down again. I've had enough excitement for a long while”. 

“To answer your question, Ron,” she chuckles over his scarlet face. “Yes, I nursed my baby”. 

“Then, why'd you stay so long? I mean, at Yamanouchi?”

All happiness fades almost instantly. Tear well up in her eyes. Kim turns, barely able to contain her emotions, kneeling by her baby's bedside, stroking her hair again, while sobbing quietly. 

“Possible-san didn't wish to leave her little one,” Master Sensei explains what she couldn't. “Two of our eldest matrons decided, against my wishes, I might add, a forced separation was best for mother and daughter. Only then would Possible-san finally leave”. 

“Oh, boy,” Ron knew his best friend, “did they have nice funerals?” 

Anne Possible was about to swat his arm again, but stopped, hearing her daughter bust out crying harder than before. “Kimmie, what's wrong?” 

She was so upset, horrified by her own actions, that night. She couldn't explain, let alone expect her own family, and the man she loves, to ever understand the actions of a bereaved mother. 

Her silence spoke volumes unto Anne's heart. “Dear God,” she reads between the lines, “she...?” She couldn't even repeat the tragedy imbuing her heart. 

“I'm afraid so, Mother Possible,” Master Sensei stayed nearby, just in case she went unstable again. “You must understand your daughter's frame of mind. I'd assured her she didn't have to leave, til she was ready. Two matron elders, older women set over the girls' dormitories, decided to act against my explicit wishes. They brought six of our best trained female students. Two seized your daughter, as she slept by her daughter's baby bed. She begged and pleaded, only to be ignored. And then...” 

Anne didn't need to hear the rest, “...one touched her daughter. And her anger exploded”. 

“Hai,” he confirms her worst fears. “The eldest matron leaned over her daughter, and glimpsed back saying something about, 'It's beset this way. You'll never see her again, nor her, you'. Possible-san simply panicked, imagining the school under attack and her daughter being kidnapped. 

She tapped Aconasema's powers that night atomizing those she perceived intent on harming her daughter. The whole school awoke hearing horrific screams, followed by dead silence. Male and female teachers and students exited their dorms in masses expecting the worst and raced towards the temple, only to be greeted by Possible-san standing below its bottom step. Eyes jet black and icy cold. Face set in stone and boiling with rage. Skin ruddy red. And hair crackling like a lively fire. She held her baby daring anyone else to come near or touch her little one. Ever again. We didn't challenge her authority, and kept our distance. Yori alone tended her needs, as Possible-san's nursemaid”. 

“After that, you let her stay til ready to leave...on her own, right?” 

“Hai, Stoppable-san”. 

“How many perished, Master Sensei?” Anne dreaded the answer. 

“22 in all, Mother Possible. Some decided to fight, and let's just say, they weren't a match”. 

Anne turns, facing her daughter. Eyes boring through her heart. “That night is my single greatest regret, even over kicking Shego into that falling tower. I'd just acquired Aconasema powers and learnt just how volatile they could be. I understood what she must've endured all these years”. 

Still, I'll Do What's Necessary

“How'd Hanna wind up with us, KP?” 

“I wanted her so badly. I'm positive, Mom and Dad would've allowed me to keep her. Only, raising her myself would've put her in too much danger. Dr. Director and our enemies would've assumed her being our child. It'd been the 'Ron Factor' multiplied a thousand times worse”. 

“Was that you? Or her? When Monkey Fist came” Glimpsing back towards Clone Kimmie. 

“Both. The YoNo stone walled my clone. I channeled Aconasema and Hanna's powers together through her. How else could a child really defeat a demonic martial arts master? And besides, I knew you'd watch over her. You're an honorable, loving man. You'll make an excellent father, one day, whoever you chose as your mate, Ron Stoppable”. 

“You trusted my family with your daughter? The person you love most in this entire world?” 

“Who else could I trust more, Ron?” 

Ron loses all inhibition. He rushes over grabs her tightly locking lips. A simply kiss quickly heats up into a full blown make-out session, forgetting their audience. 

Master Sensei coughs, that didn't part them. 

“Alight, enough!” Anne forcibly separates them. “What's your father going to think?” 

“Ah, don't worry, Mom. He still has his virgin daughter. Carrot-Top has never been touched. Yet”. 

Anne stared with her mouth agape, wondering, 'Why her daughter was acting so promiscuous?' 

Finally, she regains her composure asking, “Will you or she come home with us?” 

“Her,” Kim deadpans. 

“Why?” Ron whines about being separated from his best friend. 

“I can no longer turn off my powers”. 

“What do you mean no longer?” 

“Simple, Ron,” she smiles nervously. “Hego, Mego, and the Wegos can turn off the glows and blend back into society. Shego never could. Hers is on 24/7. Right?” 

“Yea. So...?” 

“Fusion with Aconasema prevents me deactivating my powers. Dr. Director could easily detect my mutation now. And you think they went crazy over Shego and her brother's. Can you imagine how they'd react over powers like mine? Carrot-Top will go home with you. I can't. I'll always be nearby, lurking in the background”. 

“What about Wade? Can he find you?” 

“Carrot-Top will be his Kim”. 

“What's that supposed to mean, Darling?” Her mother didn't like that undertone. 

“Plain and simple. Wade's a loyal friend. He's helped me immeasurably over the years. I appreciate what he's done. The boy has one character flaw, which poses a danger. He simply can't let a mystery go, my powers, in this case. He'd no doubt dig into them. As good as he is, there's always someone better. He could unintentionally lead the wrong people directly to Hanna”. 

“What will you do if he starting digging, KP?” 

Her eyes turn black and skin ruddy red. Voice deep and resonate. Claws jet out her hands, “I'd do whatever's necessary to protect her, Ron”. 

Mouth of Babes

Hanna senses her getting upset again. She starts to whimper, tossing and tumbling, grasping air with her hands. 

She retracts her claws, lays beside her baby, and rubs her stomach coddling, “Shh. Shh. Calm down, Little Hans. Mommy's okay”. 

Just then. She hears a little voice in her head, “I know who you are! Really are!” 

She'd said that earlier. Kim didn't understand why it didn't register, til now. She slips off the bed. Her knees buckle and bawling bitterly with joy and sorrow, mixed. 

“Kimmie....”. 

“KP...” 

“Possible-san...”

“....what's wrong?” All say at the same time. 

“She knows,” she barely gets out, before breaking down sobbing hard. 

Anne hugs her daughter tight, rocking her gently, and assures her, “It's okay, Darling”. Over and over. 

“Who knows what, KP?” 

“Seriously, Ron, you...” 

“Mom...” Kim grasps her hand reassuringly.

“Hanna knows I'm her mama”. 

“What make you say that, KP?” 

“Ron, really examine what's transpired since this sitch started. Remember when I almost shot you inside you house?” 

“Yea,” Ron hated thinking about that night.

“I was shot in the head, Ron, and didn't recognize you. All I cared about was protecting my baby. But, that's beside the point right now”. 

“Beside the point? You damn near killed me, KP”. 

“I won't deny my actions, Ron. But, you're getting sidetracked. Remember what transpired. Hanna calmed me down quoting Japanese proverbs about motherhood. How can we forget her actions inside Xavier  
Institute? I lay dying, and couldn't relay what's wrong. Hanna told Aconasema I needed Other Kimmie. I can't believe I missed those clues. She didn't know how to express what she feared, but knew, I'd die without fusion. 

I initially lost my humanity following fusion. And she's the only person, who'd dare approach me; and did so without fear, even went so far as to rebuking me, when necessary. Why would she do this? She's known all along I'm her mama. That's why I calmed her so easily when younger. Even your parents couldn't understand why. It must've been our strong maternal bond, established reading, talking, and singing to her all during my pregnancy, even those 6-months following her birth, nursing, changing her diapers, rocking, burping, even sleeping close by, and a million other small things”. 

“What about Clone Kimmie?” 

“I don't know if she understands she's only a clone. I'm positive, she knows she isn't me”. 

Cries Of A Child

Those words no sooner cross her lips. Hanna stirs, still whining, sensing she's upset. “Mama,” she cries in the same archaic language she'd spoken with Aconasema earlier. 

“Out of the mouths of sucklings and babes comes truth,” Kim cries joyous tears leaning over and kissing her little one's forehead. 

“Wake up, Little Hans, it's past time you return unto the land of the living,” she whispers lovingly in her right ear. 

Hanna's eyes flutter open. Vision blurry, but clearing relatively quickly. A rugged smile crosses her face. She sees a familiar fiery redhead with a glowing smile standing teary eyed over her bed, “Yous back. Yous back. Mean Wady gone,” she wraps her little arms around Kim's neck. 

Kim closes her eyes tightly cherishing this moment, and returning her hug, “I'm me again. Thanks to you. You were there, when I needed you most, Baby Girl”. 

Kim lets her go, barely containing her emotions, but manages to say, “I can't stay”. 

“I's wittle. Not 'tupid,” Hanna huffs. “Jus' call, I's helps”. 

“Let me guess, you have a clone of her, too,” Ron despised the unspeakable scenario playing out in his head. 

Her silence told his everything he needed to know. 

“Great! What now?” He throws his hands up, “You gonna snatch my baby sister, replace her with a puppet-clone, and go on the lam?” 

“Can bubba come?” Hanna giggles, imagining the possibility. 

“No,” she deadpans.

Ron glare turns stone cold, ignoring Hanna's whiny, “Why?” 

“Think, Ron, think,” she pats his cheeks lightly. “I don't have another boyfriend or anything like that. And it's not because I don't want you with me. Your leaving Team Possible and suddenly be seen hanging with Aconasema would draw too much unnecessary attention towards Hanna”. 

“Never forget, Little Hans, mommy will always love you. I think it best you stay with him. Your brother's an honorable man. One of the few in this world”. 

“What about you, KP?” 

“Don't worry, Ron. I'm set financially. I drained Hydra's accounts, while making it seem like their partners double-crossed one another”. 

“How much, Kimmie?” 

“$4 Trillion, Mom”. 

Ron and Anne whistle. 

Master Sensei simply chuckles. Hands tucked inside his sleeves. 

“Sta' safe. I's be dood. Make Mommy and Daddy happy”. 

“You do that, Little Bit”. 

“Let's get you all home”. 

“Bye, Master,” she bids. He vanishes seconds later. 

Wrapping Things Up

Dr. Director and Nick Fury vanish amidst an open op. Both reappear, back aboard the helicarrier, inside its Level-10 Omega situation room. Door sealed shut. Motion sensors active and laser fully armed. 

“What the hell's going on here?” Dr. Director huffs mirroring her partner's confusion.

“I don't...” 

Nick Fury's 'know' interrupts by an illustrious light washes over everything. 

Dr. Director and Nick Fury shield their eyes. Both curse aloud seeing their visitor. 

“Ah, hell...” 

“...Not you again,” the duo mirror the Possible twins' initial reaction. 

“Lady, what the hell do you want now?” Fury contends with Aconasema. 

“Others may view you like some hero. We don't,” Dr. Director shares Fury's contempt, and didn't mind voicing it. 

“What'd I do?” Kim snickers with a shrug. 

“Oh, don't be coy with us. You orchestrated this private civil war among Hydra's factions,” Dr. Director charges. 

“...and damn near plunged the world into WW-III in the process,” Fury ups the ante more. 

“I stopped them, and prevented war, didn't I? What else did you expect?” 

“What do you want now? A metal?” 

“No, Dr. Director, I don't. I only want to return these humans and meld back into the shadows, where entities like me belong”. 

Dr. Director gapes past her, “The Senors, Jack Hench...”

“Logan”. 

“The name's Wolverine, and you know it, Fury”. 

“Fine,” he smirks, still able to push the mutant's buttons. “Professor Xavier and his famed X-Men. So, is she part of your team now?” 

“They wished,” Aconasema stops them, before this witch hunt starts. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice wouldn't target the school over harboring her. “They may be powerful in yours eyes. To me, they're weaklings. Do with them what you wish. They're more trouble than they're worth”. 

“What about you? Where will you be?” 

“On Mars. My father's kingdom and my home, Director Fury". 

“Say what?” The Possibles, Stoppables, and X-Men echo the Senors, Jack Hench, Saran Maddox, and others shout in undeniable surprise. 

“What'd you do with all those sentinels?” Dr. Director inquires next. 

“I beamed them inside the Phoenix Cluster Constellation's central massive black hole”.

“I still say that's impossible,” Beast and James Possible clamor. “That's over 5.7 billion light years away. It'd take several centuries simply to reach that far”. 

“For you. Definitely. Not me,” she mocks their weakness. “I can cross that distance as easily as you walk across the street. Bye, Filthy Mortals”. 

She goes to leave, but turns back around advocating, “Oh, while we're on topic, I suggest you quit seeking those scrolls”. 

“Why?” Dr. Director and Fury inquire with pitted stomachs; knowing, she'd done something. 

“Simple. You'll only be wasting your time, money, and man power. I destroyed the temples and their accursed weapons”. 

“What!” Everyone there gasps in shock and horror. 

Dr. Director and Fury saw their jobs more in jeopardy than ever, especially when their perspective boards heard about this. 

Senor Senor saw his profits declining across the board. 

Junior and Bonnie moan disparagingly, dreading Senor's coming mood swings. 

Professor X, his team, and students never suspected she'd destroy an monumentally historical structures. 

“What's wrong?” She needles them all, “You regret not getting your hands on ultimate power?” 

None say anything eyeing her. Each burdened with his/her own concerns. 

“Don't worry. You'd never reached the last temple any way”.

“Why's that?” Dr. Director and Fury snap together with sore indignity. 

“The last temple was built eons ago on Mercury. You'd never reach its interior, at least not in your lifetimes. Certain alien species could. Relax, though, I destroyed it, too, just so your greed wouldn't tempt you into forming any tenuous alliances, which could put your world in mortal danger”. She busts up laughing manically and vanishes before their eyes. 

Her departure leaves Dr. Director and Fury steamed. 

And the rest staying out their way. They couldn't wait to get back home, and put this whole ordeal behind them. Like it'd never happened. 

The End


End file.
